Some Simple Soccerlike Slides
by Dailenna
Summary: [Royai][AU] Previous difficulties set aside as much as they can be, Roy and Riza continue to live as their family expands in this collection of oneshots set after Such is the Sport of Soccer.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** Sorry, everyone, that this has taken so long. I've been trying to get myself to write more on it before I start posting, which hasn't really been happening because I've been working on another piece, which won't be ready for a _looong_ time. So I may as well post a little bit of this already. I started it, thinking "sequel", but I don't think I'll manage that - I explained in the end of "Such is the Sport of Soccer" why that would be - so it's just in one-shot form, like many of my other stories. I hope that you don't mind that. Some of it might still be in an ongoing-story format, but it will skip when necessary, and there won't really be any plot that takes us through the whole thing. Please enjoy it as it is. Thank you for your support in SSS, and I hope that you like this just as much.

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"**Some Simple Soccer-like Slides**" by **Dailenna**

**Prologue**

The crowd cheered wildly to welcome their hero back to the field. The season had only just begun again, and their expectant roars carried from the stands over the grass, and to the ears of the players at the ready. It seemed that their love and adoration never really ended, instead carrying from year to year. The first game of the season always had a so-so turn-out, but a good vocal response. There were no losses to speak of yet, and the fans waited eagerly for their own team to win; for their favourite player to take the game under his wing and bring another year of glory to the game.

He ran onto the field with a confident grin, and took his place quickly. For some reason he didn't look the same as he usually did. The crowd didn't look as it usually did. The stadium was entirely out of perspective. Everything seemed . . . taller. It took the looming referee's whistle blow to point out to her why.

She was the ball.

A foot came out of nowhere, and suddenly her hair streamed behind her in the wind. She felt queasy as she kept rising up into the air, but all of a sudden her stomach rose into her throat when she stopped ascending and began to fall. An opposing team player watched her carefully, adjusting his position. As she came close to the ground, his boot stretched out in front of her.

She gave a jerk, and jolted into consciousness by her movement, she opened her eyes sluggishly. The room around her was still dark, and she let her eyes droop shut again, trying to ignore the now-familiar pains in her abdomen.

As much as she could pass those off as a symptom of being very close to the end of her term, she couldn't ignore the scratchy, dry feeling of her throat. With a soft moan she opened her eyes again, and pushed her husband back to his own side of the bed softly so that she could get up. The movement only served to remind her that it was the middle of the night, and she would be better off trying to sleep, but her throat cried out for water.

After giving a faint cough she heaved herself up onto her aching feet and shuffled out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. It was at times like this that she wished she could bear to drink straight from the tap like Roy did when he needed to drink, or at least remembered to keep a cup of some sort in their bathroom. Instead she had to slowly make her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where she found a glass a little slower than she would have if she was fully awake, and finally got her water.

Now she'd been able to soothe her throat she felt tireder than even before. There was a pause in which she gulped the last two mouthfuls and put the glass in the sink before turning to go back to bed.

She stopped, clutching at the bench and now fully awake, looking down at the splash of water at her feet.

"R-Roy?" she called out shakily, even though she knew he was still upstairs and asleep. Some small hope inside her had made her think that he might have been able to hear her. But no, the man wasn't a superhero – she knew that for a fact.

Taking a few tottering steps, she wobbled out of the kitchen and through the dining room the base of the stairs, where she stopped with dread, looking up at the pale timber. Those stairs were mocking her, she knew it.

A whole five minutes later, and having clenched every single muscle in her body at least twice for each stair, she gripped the balustrade with clawed fingers and finally took the last step up onto the second floor of the house. Making it to the bedroom was a piece of cake in comparison.

She didn't bother to close the door behind her, and tried not to sit too heavily on the bed when leaning over to shake the pile of blankets. Someone under there groaned. That, at least, was a good sign.

"Roy?" she asked, putting her face next to his ear.

He gave another groan, and since her eyes had had the time to become accustomed to the dim light of the moon she could see his eyebrows raise in an attempt to open his eyes without actually lifting his eyelids.

"Roy," she tried again.

There was a sniff, a blink – his eyes had opened a little – and a throaty "What is it, honey?" His breath was hot on her cheek, and smelled of morning-breath without the extra few hours.

"My water just broke."

Now his eyes were open.


	2. In Which Names Are Mentioned

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** Well, this has taken a while - it's because I'm working on a million things at once. I have other FMA things I'm working on, but since I'm not publishing _those_ until I've completed them, you haven't seen them yet. When I get one project finished that'll ease up a lot of time for me to work on the others, and then you can finally see what I'm making. Well anyway, here's this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, and thank you for waiting. Thank you for reviews, too - you guys are lovely!

Oh, and usually when people review anonymously I try to find them through the ffn search, but that hasn't been working as well for me lately, so I'll start replying to anonymous reviews before each chapter. So here we go:

_kasumiryumizu_: Yeah, since things are going better between them now it should be a bit more Royai-ish. It's not perfect, but they're trying, so hopefully things'll be better :)

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**Chapter One: In Which Names Are Mentioned**

There had been pain before, and there had been agony. There had been broken bones, pulled muscles, crushed ligaments and dislocated limbs. There had been suffering – they had just comes through a few years of Hell at home, hadn't they? There had been panic, fear and terror. There had been anger and resentment.

But nothing like this.

Two shrieks of pain echoed out into the hallway.

All of the blood seemed to rush out of his face at once. He looked down at his hand in horror, but it was still tightly grasped by his screeching wife. He didn't think he could feel his mashed fingers anymore.

Then there was a sickeningly wet sound, and a short moment later a sharp cry filled the room. His face scrunched up, and he put his other hand to one ear in an effort to block out the piercing cry – his head felt as though everything inside of it was being thoroughly rattled around by the loud wail – yet, through one screwed up eye he peeked curiously over at the noise-maker.

Roy and Riza both let out the breaths they had held – she because she could finally relax after eight painful hours, and he because she had finally let go of his squashed hand. He looked towards the doctor holding his new daughter, flexing his fingers at the same time to get feeling back into them. He winced – that was not a good idea.

The messy little human kicked lightly, eyes shut tightly and gums showing as she tested out her lungs. He was surprised that she hadn't screamed herself hoarse already. Watching in amazement, he couldn't help the goofy grin that slid up onto his face.

The doctor looked up to him. "Mr. Mustang, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?"

He and staggered forwards, casting a glance back at Riza. Her eyelids were fluttering wearily, and her hair was plastered to her forehead, but she gave him a weary smile, and he grinned in return before going to help however he could.

Handling the small scissors as carefully as he possible with his uninjured hand, he snipped where the doctor directed and watched the man tie a knot into a bellybutton.

His awed smile fell when the girl's wail began to falter. He looked at the doctor apprehensively, but the professional – a familiar face from nine years ago – gave a nonchalant shake of the head. "That's completely normal. It looks like she might stop crying soon." With a relieved sigh he watched the nurse take his new daughter off to clean her up.

"Roy," a voice croaked behind him. Riza was holding her hand out limply towards him, ignoring the nurse fussing around her to make sure she was alright.

Dragging the back of his hand over his forehead to stop sweat from trickling into his eyes, he hesitantly took her hand and sat beside her on the bed. At least she was finished giving birth now. His crushed fingers would have a chance to recover.

She licked her lips. "What is she like?"

He reached out his other hand to pull the sweat-matted hair back from her face. "Loud."

She laughed weakly.

"And she's got my hair already." There was no denying that – it was hard to ignore the mop of hair on her head. He opened his mouth to continue when another nurse approached, holding the quietened baby.

"Would you like to hold your new daughter, Mrs. Mustang?" she asked, not really anticipating a negative answer.

She didn't receive one, either. Riza simply let go of Roy's hand and held her arms out expectantly to take her child. The moment the slowly wriggling girl was placed in her arms she seemed to relax.

He couldn't help but smile at the image. Last time he'd been in this position was close enough to a decade ago, but the only thing that looked any different was the black-haired baby – Addy had been born without the slightest trace of fuzz on her scalp.

"Isn't she gorgeous," Riza whispered, eyes focussing on the pale child batting a fist against Riza's own. Roy imagined that it couldn't be more than a light tap, and reached his fingers out to grasp the girl's other hand softly. Now that she had been cleaned up and calmed down, the girl looked a lot less blue than before.

"Yes," he breathed, not wanting to break the moment with his loud voice. "Just like you." He kissed the side of her head briefly, and she turned to peck him on the lips happily.

This was what he had been missing out on for all of that time. Sometimes he couldn't believe the idiot he had been. He knew – she had told him – that the way he behaved hadn't improved the situation, and he was honestly trying to fix it all. Obviously she thought that he had done a good job of fixing his attitude, or otherwise they wouldn't have been here, would they?

She elbowed him lightly to get his attention. "Go call your parents and let them know. Have them bring Addy to see."

One of the nurses must have overheard, because she swooped over to the bed at that moment. "That's all very well, Mrs. Mustang, but you need to get some sleep. The doctor said you wouldn't be ready for visitors until you've had some rest."

Roy looked at his wife and took in her pale skin and belaboured breathing. It may have been relatively fast – although in his timing eight hours could never be considered 'fast' – but apparently the birth wasn't 'easy'.

He put an arm around her shoulders. "I think the doctor might be right, Riza. I'll call Mum and Dad and let them know, but you should get to sleep."

She frowned slightly, but upon looking back at the girl in her arms the expression was gone again. "Alright," she gave in. "Tell them to come over tomorrow, then."

A little while later she reluctantly gave her child to the nurse, and settled down into the bed, eyes blinking lazily. He smirked as she tried to bite back a yawn, and he ran a hand over her head to push back the hair falling into her eyes again. Looking at her now, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the last year or so. It might have been hell trying to get through various legal proceedings, but they had come out of it better off.

Even with her eyes half-closed he could see her thinking. He leant forwards so that his chin almost rested on her shoulder. "We can name her later," he murmured.

She let out a soft laugh. "I'm not making any decisions, just . . . thinking," she told him, still looking off into the distance.

A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and he closed her eyes softly with two fingertips. They opened again straight away, but he persisted. "Sleep now. Get your strength back."

"I'm strong enough already," she insisted, but this time her eyes stayed shut. She reached out a blind hand and found his, entangling their fingers together. Roy leant back onto the bed-head. He'd have to put off calling his parents for another half-hour or so.

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They arrived the next day. When Addy walked in the door and saw her mother sitting up in bed, nursing a small child, she walked forwards reverently to put a hand on the younger girl's head, and stroked the soft hair that lay there already.

Addy had classmates with brothers and sisters, but had never really had one herself. The closest she'd had before was Elycia, but Elycia didn't know much of sign-language, so Addy didn't feel as close to her as to other people who did. If she wanted to talk to Elycia, she had to write down what she wanted to say on paper. Winry was a little better, but she was old enough to be Addy's babysitter, and that didn't quite seem right.

She'd been told that only-children were often spoilt and always expected to get their own way because they didn't have to share at home. That made her angry – she still had to share with Mummy and Daddy, after all – but now she couldn't really be lumped into that category. Not when she had a little sister too. Sure, she'd have to share with more people, but it would still be a long time before this one started wanting her own way. Besides, she was just a _baby_. This would be fun.

Addy looked up to her mother's face. She was looking at Addy at that moment, smiling, and reaching for her hand. Addy put her smaller hand into her mother's, and stood there, feeling connected to her family. Soon her father came in through the door, and grinned at them.

"My three favourite ladies, all in the one spot," he said, walking over and giving Addy a hug.

There were quick greetings and congratulations, and then Addy's grandparents, who had brought her, asked if the baby had a name yet.

"Ah, I started flicking through a book of names, but I didn't get past 'C'," he said with a guilty grin.

Addy's mother made a shocked noise and said "_Roy_," which Addy had long ago learnt was her father's name, when she asked why all of the pictures in the newspaper said "Roy Mustang" and not "Daddy Mustang".

"_Anyway_," her mother continued, a little more mildly when she looked down at the quiet baby, "we were thinking that we'd call her Bianca."

Addy's hand dropped from her mother's, and her mother looked at her, as though wondering if something was wrong. Addy paused for a moment, then made a few signs: '_that sounds pretty_'.

There was a smile on her mother's face, and the arm that wasn't holding the baby – Bianca – reached out to sit around Addy's waist. "Well, if Addy agrees, then I think we've have hit on the right one. Bianca it is."

"Bianca it is," Addy's father echoed, standing close so that he could put his arms around his whole family. Addy grinned.


	3. In Which Responsibility Comes And Goes

**Disclaimer: **I don't own FMA

**Notes:** Well, I'm doing terribly at this 'updating' thing, aren't I? I think I just need to sit down and write with a clear idea in my head, but the problem is that clear ideas are hard to come by. Sorry for taking so long. I won't make any promises about how long the next one will take, because that'd just be mean of me when my updating streak so far has been about one a month. I'll try to continue at a faster rate, but again, I can't promise anything.

Replying to anonymous reviews:

_anonymous129_: Ahh, handy to get information from someone who actually knows. I'll change the part about the baby's colour (thank you for that), but I'm pretty sure that there's a knot tied in the belly button. That's what I always heard. I remember in class someone asking "if the knot was ever untied, would our intestines fall out?". Thank you for your help! Now I'm uncertain about belly-button knots, too . . .

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**Chapter Two: In Which Responsibility Comes And Goes**

Life had been different in the past year and three quarters. At first Addy hadn't known what to think about it all – she could barely remember when her parents got on so well – but it had been a pleasant surprise. It had been nice to have the reminder that they _could_ get on when they wanted to. Of course, this didn't mean that everything was perfect. There was still the odd argument, which would send Addy ducking for cover so that she didn't end up caught between them, but it was less frequent. More on a monthly basis than almost daily, as it had used to be.

They may not have been aware that Addy noticed these things, but it was more the prickle of the tension in the air, rather than the voices or the actions, that alerted Addy to when dangerous times were coming. Instead of realising that the arch of her mother's eyebrow or the slump of her father's back meant something had happened or was happening, it was in the way that even the silence managed to invade that little portion of time. That was what had been pressing down on them, when she was younger: the heavy silences, as heavy as though they were carrying every angry word and hurt expression that had never been said or made in this house, as well as those that had been

She was glad they'd learnt how to be happy again – how to resolve their arguments. It wasn't like there was a sudden loss of that weighty silence, but rather . . . that it had been filled with something else. Something lighter, and better. The few times it did return it hadn't had the time to regain the anvil-like weight it used to have, rather feeling more like Addy had forgotten to take her schoolbag off, and it was wet and filled with bricks. Then the tension would break, and she'd finally taken the bag off, and maybe everyone wouldn't be smiling again, but her parents certainly weren't at each other's necks anymore.

A few months ago they had gone to the beach together. All three of them. Well, all four of them, really – Mummy had still been pregnant. They hadn't all been to the beach together for a long time. Years. Addy couldn't forget one car trip home, where they snapped at each other, not seeming to register that Addy was cowering in the backseat, trying to block it all out by watching out the window. Then they got home, and it was all worse. They didn't talk for ages, and that didn't make it feel any better.

_This_ time, when they went, she swam in the shallows for a while before Daddy came with her into the deeper water, and let her cling onto him when the water was too deep, or when a wave was coming. Other than that she could swim on her own, of course. Enough to keep her head above water most of the time, but she liked having him there for the safety of it. His strong arms keeping her protected.

On the way back in to shore she had swum ahead, only to be dumped under a wave, but when she stood back up, he was there to check she was okay. She was coughing the water out of her nose, and had red marks over her skin from where the wave had pulled her down and scraped her along the sand and shells on the bottom of the beach, but she was fine.

They had made their way back to the towels, where Mummy sat, propped up and resting a book on her bulging belly, sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. She took one look at Addy's distressed face and had her sit down on another towel to dry off and calm down. On the way to the car they bought ice-creams at the kiosk, and Addy made sure she got something with plenty of chocolate in it. There was nothing for curing the sand-in-the-eyes blues like chocolate. Other than not having sand in the eyes, that was.

But that was a few months ago, when they were sort of exploring the re-emerging positive relationship between Addy's mother and father. Walking back to the car with her towel around her waist, hair and ice-cream both dripping in different ways, her father's arm around her and his other hand holding her mother's? It was like a whole new world.

Addy looked down into the little crib. She'd been told that it was hers when she was a baby. Beneath her, Bianca – who had been kicking Mummy quite actively when they got home from the beach that day – was asleep. The baby had been sleeping quite peacefully a moment ago, when Addy first came in to look at her, but now she seemed to pause to scrunch up her nose every now and then. It looked as though she was frowning.

Uncertain, and a little worried, Addy backed away, about to head towards the next room, where her mother had closed her eyes while watching some boring show on television, and seemed to have fallen asleep.

There was a little whimpering grunt as a sort of warning first. Addy knew she shouldn't walk away now – not when she knew something could go wrong. It didn't take long for the whimper to become a cry as loud as the ambulance sirens that had blared their way past school the other week.

Addy clamped her hands over her ears. How on earth could a child make so much noise? She certainly got by without having to – why couldn't this one?

She was standing there for a handful of seconds, wondering what she should do, when the door opened and in came her tired mother. With a sigh of relief, as her brief flash of responsibility was taken away, Addy gave an uncertain smile to her mother, before watching how she carefully handled Bianca.

"It's okay," Mummy said, as much to her older daughter as to the younger. "Everything's under control. Everything's fine."

Addy breathed a sigh of relief and left the room.


	4. In Which An Invitation Is Issued

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** OH MY GOSH, FINALLY! Dudes, I am just as annoyed as you are about the fact that this chapter took so long. I got stuck for so long (two months, in fact), and no matter how many times I looked at it, I couldn't budge any more. My mind had a certain structure planned out, and it wouldn't work if I kept to that structure. You and I both owe our many thanks to the awesome people at the Royai Forum (link in my profile) and expecially to **Bizzy** and **causmicfire** for their help in this, or otherwise I would have tantrumed around my computer folders and deleted it. As it is, while I was waiting for my brother to get off of the computer I started writing up the next chapter (already three written pages - maybe one and a bit typed), so if I work dilligently on that, instead of slacking off on WoW, everything should be fine. Thank you for your support and everything!

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**Chapter Three: In Which An Invitation Is Issued**

It could have been considered a generally fine day. The sun was warm overhead – a little too warm if you asked Riza, but not so bad that she had to trade her jeans in for shorts. There was a cloud or two in the sky, but no breeze. Altogether, a good day for a walk.

That's what Riza had thought when Roy's parents had called and said they wouldn't be able to pick up Addy from school. There was a doctor's appointment Roy's mother had to meet, and would it be okay if Riza went and got Addy? No problem. They'd just bought a new stroller, because the old one was incredibly dusty. It had also had a kink in one of the rods from the time when Addy stood on the side while Riza wasn't looking, and had tipped the whole thing over. The girl cried because she bumped her head, and the stroller was a little wonky. Nevertheless, it was good enough to get them home at the time, and Addy was getting a bit big for being pushed around, so they didn't bother getting a new one at that time. Now they had a replacement Riza was satisfied with she'd finally be able to take Bianca out for walks.

That was the reason why Riza found herself walking through the park, pushing a quiet Bianca along in the new stroller. She had all the baby's necessities in the undercarriage or strapped to the sides, and should a problem arise all she needed to do was find a convenient area to stop her little girl from crying.

Riza hadn't been as ready with Addy to take her out for walks this early. She hadn't felt comfortable leaving the house before Addy had been almost six months. It was a paranoia, almost, that she would find herself in a crowded area with a small child whose needs she didn't know how to meet. Although it was a while ago now, Riza could still pinpoint a few key differences between herself as a first-time mother and now, when she felt like she at least knew bits and pieces of what she was doing.

Still, second-time mother or not, she couldn't help but feel uncertain when it came to the noises Bianca made. Crying, she understood, because Addy had had her own version of that, but every little gurgle or giggle set her on edge. Not that she jumped right into action and tried to stop it, but she was too used to all of Addy's noises being made for a distinct purpose to be able to let Bianca's slide easily.

The curious little "ahh" that came from inside the stroller made Riza tense up, but when no further noise came, she let it pass. It was likely that Bianca was just reacting to the chatter around them, trying to speak back in her own way. They were close to the school now, and other parents were waiting by the gates for their kids to come out, conversing with each other to pass the time.

Talk of dinner plans and basketball games filled the air, and as Riza came to a halt next to the fence, she listened curiously. She liked to think that she and her family led relatively normal lives, but when she stopped to listen to the people here, she realised just how much Roy's career set them apart from others. While one set of mothers swapped recipes, some fathers a little way off complained about the money it cost to send their kids to this special school – but, of course, they wouldn't trade it for anything, because otherwise how would their kids be able to feel normal?

When Bianca made another little noise – just fussing, Riza had determined – she could feel the gazes of several other parents flicker over to her. Whether it was just because the baby's noise attracted their attention, or whether they were wondering how a child who could vocalise things might affect their own child, she didn't know.

A woman approached Riza and Bianca, and Riza couldn't help but feel defensive when she looked up. The other woman was smiling, though.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"She's a girl," Riza replied, relaxing only a little.

The woman bent over the stroller. "She's adorable. Is it okay if I touch her?" she trailed off, looking at Riza questioningly.

Riza's mouth opened and closed, and she tried to push aside the protective feeling rising in her. The only people who had been close to Bianca so far were either family or close friends. "Ah, just be careful."

The face of this woman was familiar. Riza had seen her here before, when she had come to collect Addy on other days. A girl from the normal high-school across the road would come and join her until a little boy came out of the school they were at, specifically for deaf or mute children.

The woman reached out a hand to brush against Bianca's cheek, and the little girl rolled her eyes to the hood of the stroller, as though the hand right by her was invisible. Riza thought it might be a natural reflex for children to not see – or to avoid seeing – what they didn't know. It was as though they had to get used to a person's presence before looking that person directly in the eye. Out of all of the babies or toddlers she had met through friends and family, she could count on one hand the number that had looked at her within the first two or three times she met them. Two of those were almost like accidents, as well, and the child seemed to look right through her.

"What's her name?"

"Bianca."

The woman smiled into the stroller. "Bianca." After a moment, she turned back to Riza. "I'm sorry. I'm Heather Noone. My son goes to this school."

Riza nodded and shook Heather's hand. "My first daughter goes here. I'm Riza Mustang."

If she expected Heather to react at all, she was pleased, for the only difference in the other woman's expression was a brightening of her smile. "What grade is your daughter in?"

"Year five. I mean, year six." The new school year had just started, so it was an easy mistake to make.

"That's the same as my Damien," Heather said. There was a pause, and her smile flickered for a moment, but this was another thing that Riza had become accustomed to. She herself couldn't say how old she looked, but she'd seen the expression often enough to realise that, at least to other people, she didn't seem old enough to have a nine-year old.

The awkward moment was interrupted when one of the fathers walked over. "You're – you're Roy Mustang's wife, aren't you?"

Heather promptly looked confused, and Riza blinked, unconsciously inching closer to Bianca's stroller. "Yes."

The man's eyes widened. "Wow. And you have a kid that goes to this school? Small world."

She smiled nervously.

A bell rang across the road, and Heather looked towards the school. A moment later, the bell in Addy's school rang – even if some children were deaf, not all were – and Riza took a breath of relief.

To say that she wasn't used to being around other people wasn't quite right. There were other reasons that made her feel out of place. The main one was society's expectations of her. It could be their expectations of her as the wife of Roy Mustang, or as a mother, or as a woman. She never quite seemed to fit the same mould as everyone tried to fit her into, and it either made them uncomfortable, or it made her uncomfortable, or both.

When she finally saw Addy coming out of school, she let herself relax. Addy's face was in a big smile as she signed to a girl Riza assumed (hoped) was her friend, but someone walked in front of Riza, and she couldn't tell what was being said. She looked away anyway, reminding herself that kids needed their own privacy, at least to an extent.

Addy skipped over, first hugging her mother and then saying hello to Bianca, who gurgled up at her. As they started walking away, headed back for home, Addy tugged on Riza's sleeve and signed: '_Can Laura come over tomorrow?_'

Riza paused. It was the first time Addy had ever expressed an interest in bringing someone over to their home. The change in their house's atmosphere might have had something to do with that. The little girl had mentioned classmates so infrequently that Riza had been uncertain as to whether her daughter even had friends.

"I'll have to meet Laura and her parents first," she said decisively. "Then if her mother says it's okay, she can come."

Addy grinned her thanks and put a hand on Bianca's stroller, as they walked down the street.

* * *

_Also, one last thing before I let you move on. I'd like to say a big thank you to Natsumi Sendo, who has actually drawn some fanart of Such is the Sport of Soccer! -Dai feels so honoured :3- If anyone wants to have a look, you can find the pictures at these addresses, minus the spaces but not the dashes:_

http://natsumi726. deviantart. com/ art/ watching-my-father-fight-68880773

http://natsumi726. deviantart. com/ art/ it-s-going-to-be-another-girl-68881940


	5. In Which 'Misteree's Are Discovered

**Disclaimer:** If I owned FMA I wouldn't be applying for jobs at my local shopping centres, would I?

**Notes:** Well, I had all this written out and the story formatted, but when I tried to ctrl+i, somehow I hit ctrl+r. So let's see what I remember. I'd like to thank **Legendary Chimera**, because without the conversation we had I never would have come up with the idea for this chapter. Spelling mistakes in the 'forum posts' are fully intentional, and to give character to the people there. Any others may not be, though. This is easily one of my biggest chapters so far (the extensive notes at start and end don't really help all that much), but a lot of that is because of the forum format I used. Anyway, I'll let you read now.

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**Chapter Four: In Which 'Misteree's Are Discovered**

Roy froze. His hand hovered over the computer mouse in horror. The screen stared back at him, not seeming to realise the message of woe typed over it. And to think, he could still have been completely oblivious if it wasn't for someone's slip up.

Twenty minutes ago, as Roy had been checking his emails, he came across one peculiar message. He didn't know how on earth it had found its way into his inbox, but nonetheless it was addressed to him. It was a simple password retrieval email for a forum that Roy had never heard of before. The account name was _Player#1_ ("Ha, ha, double entendre," he had thought) and the password was _myw1f3h456un5_, neither of which he had used before, but it still made him wary.

After a confused pause, he had clicked the link to the forum, and began to browse. At first glance, it was a soccer forum. At second it was a shrine to the Amestrian team. Amongst the different sections for normal forum chat ('General', 'TV/Movies', 'Books', 'Games', etc.) there were individual sections for each player. Some had more threads than others – his was in front by at least seven threads, and three hundred and sixty-two comments – but all seemed to have something. He was intrigued by the fact that this _Player#1_ was the last person to comment in Jean Havoc's section, and so he had opened it in a new window.

At closer inspection, the thread title was "Do smokers make good eye-candy?" It was a relatively new thread, so there were only four posts so far, including the original comment.

* * *

**11:53AM YESTERDAY**

**BeForward:**

There have been 'rating' threads for most of the other players, but what do you girls think about Jean Havoc? Guys are welcome to answer too, if you want. I have nothing against gays hehehe

To answer my own question I think Jean (I hope he doesn't mind me calling him that!) is uber hot. I mean he's got to be one of the best playerd on the field and he has dreamy eyes.

**1:20PM YESTERDAY**

**Cooks:**

I'm sure Jean would be honoured to know his fans feel close enough to call him by his first name, Be :)

The question really is about the smoking side of him, not the rest of him, and I have to say that if he didn't smoke, Jean Havoc would be in my top three. As it is, he has a bad habit he needs to fix.

-Edited by Cooks at 1:22PM YESTERDAY-

**5:42 YESTERDAY**

**ConStellaTion:**

I dont see whats so wrong with him smoking. Hes hot either way. Sorry guys, my apostrofee key isnt working.

**9:18PM YESTERDAY**

**Player#1:**

As a sports player smoking is bad for Havoc. It weakens his lung capacity and makes it harder for him to breathe when he needs to. I wouldn't say it makes him any more or less attractive – although he's a bit tall for my taste – but it can damage his health, and usefulness to the team, and so we shouldn't encourage him in it.

* * *

Roy paused, looking over _Player#1_'s comment. It seemed rational enough. Maybe the password retrieval email just sent to him by mistake . . . to his private email address . . . with his name over the top of it. He steadied himself and closed the thread window, returning to the window with the forum homepage. Not wanting to spend too much time searching for this person's posts, Roy went straight to their profile and clicked "Find all topics by this member". A grand total of zero popped up.

Sighing, Roy decided to do this the manual way.

Which is how, not long afterwards, he discovered the forum was littered with posts by _Player#1_.

* * *

**Greetings Thread**

**7:25PM two months, five days ago**

**Player#1:**

Hi, I'm male, in my early thirties, I enjoy playing and watching soccer, and I'm bi. Nice to meet you all.

**Games Thread (PUM)**

**4:11PM one week, one day ago**

**Player#1:**

(In answering "PUM is single?")

Nope, I'm married with kids :)

PUM is a pyromaniac?

**Buccaneer Thread**

**8:24PM three weeks ago**

**Player#1:**

Stella - you can't really say that about someone you haven't met. I personally have had the honour of meeting him, and I can say that Buccaneer really is a nice guy under that . . . angry-looking exterior. Poor choice in women (at least personality-wise), but a nice guy nonetheless.

**Movies Thread**

**6:00PM one week, one day ago**

**Player#1:**

I picked Never Been Kissed and 10 Things I Hate About You. I know they're chickfliks, but you can't go past a good comedy. Besides, my wife likes them.

**Amestrian Team Thread**

**9:02PM** **four days ago**

**Player#1:**

My favourite player? Other than myself? ;) Well, maybe Ed Elric. Up close he's hotter than the sun. Pity he's so young, though. And taken. Other than that . . .

* * *

These were only the comments sitting on top of the threads. Roy couldn't be bothered sifting through all of them to find every post, and frankly, this guy was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. He wasn't sure whether the comment about his favourite player "other than himself" was meant to be a play on his username or whether he might actually play for some team. Several posts indicated a level of knowledge of the players that bordered on stalkerish, and Roy was somewhat relieved that _Player#1_ hadn't mentioned Roy himself, so far as he had read. Of course, he hadn't been into his own area yet. Somewhat reluctantly, he opened the "Roy Mustang" section and looked at his choice of threads. "Contract Length", "Blue, Brown, Black (poll)?", "Photo gallery", "Love or Loathe", "happily marryed?" . . .

Roy had stopped reading when his eyes settled on the "happily marryed?" thread name. He knew that he and Riza hadn't seemed the closest for quite a while, but things were picking up now. Still, if fans had found even a whiff of something going wrong, they might be able to cause enough stir that the media dug up something that he and Riza had already put behind them.

Somewhat hesitantly, he clicked on the thread title, needing to know just what was being said.

* * *

**5:42PM two weeks ago**

**missus-m:**

come on u'v all seen riza mustang. shure she's pretty but she just never seems happy wth roy n he dosn't seem to lik being around her ether. wat's th deal?

**5:49PM two weeks ago**

**Vallee:**

Have you ever seen a picture of anyone who's been a celebrity or married to one for that long and looks happy at always being followed around with cameras? I'm sure it's just that sort of problem. It's not like they don't ever have physical contact or anything. I mean they just had another kid, didn't they?

**5:52PM two weeks ago**

**missus-m:**

but who seys that its his kid? wasn't there that big fuss a bit ago becos she was sleeping wth sum1 else? it migt jus be his

**5:54PM two weeks ago**

**Vallee:**

Woah, that's a pretty serious acusation, m. I remember there being some fuss, but what you're saying just doesn't sound right. I'm more of a Roy fan than one of Riza Mustang, so I didn't really read up on it that much.

**8:31PM two weeks ago**

**Cooks:**

-link- -link-

If you follow the first link it'll take you to an article about the trial. The second will take you to the thread discussing it. It wasn't to do with her cheating (which I personally think isn't our business – if they're still together, then obviously they don't have an issue with it), but rather the fact that she was raped. There's just a bit of a difference there, you know. I would have thought it'd be the sort of thing that would stick in your minds if you even heard about it.

**11:57AM one week, five days ago**

**Vallee:**

Thanks for that, Cooks. That's really sad that something like that woud happen, though. I hope everything's alright now.

**7:37PM one week, one day ago**

**SoccerMum:**

Cooks: wow, that's terrible.

missus-m: they don't seem that happy around each other, but I think it varies in most photos of them. In some they look annoyed, but in others they just look tired. Anyway, haven't you seen some of the recent photos of them, like when Riza was pregnant, and since then? There was that one a little while ago with all four of them together, where they looked like any other family, just famous. I'm pretty sure that there hasn't been – or at least aren't – any problems with their marriage.

**6:42PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Hey, Riza's not just pretty – she's gorgeous. And I assure you that Bianca is mine.

We've been through our ordeals and all, but I can tell you that everything's fine with the marriage right now. Sorry to disappoint you, m. The cameras are a big hassle, and Vallee's pretty much got it right. You can handle being followed around for a while, but then everything just gets on your nerves, and it's the same thing over and again. When you don't get any privacy it just gets so annoying.

**7:34PM one week ago**

**Cooks:**

. . .Okay, I don't know if you're answering the right question. It sounds like you're saying _you're_ Roy Mustang.

**7:41PM one week ago**

**Fins:**

how starge would that be to have one of he team actually on the forum

**8:21PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Well, it's sort of hard to say it and expect you to believe me, but guess who I am :P

**8:25PM one week ago**

**Vallee:**

No way, you're just pulling our leg. Aren't you?

**8:27PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Tell me how to prove it, and I'll give it a shot. I can tell someone on the team to do something in Saturday's game for you. I can probably get Ed to do something – he won't listen to me most of the time, but I can probably try to convince him.

**8:28PM one week ago**

**Vallee:**

Do you have webcam? You can make a video for us.

**8:30PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Nah, I don't have webcam. Sorry.

**8:31PM one week ago**

**Cooks:**

So you're telling us that you, Player, the bi-sexual, Elric-loving forum member, are actually in real life Roy Mustang? I'm sceptical . . . Can you make Ed drop his pants during the next soccer game? Pretty please? If you do that, I'll believe you, I swear.

**8:31PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Hmm, while I'd love to give that a shot, I have a feeling that Ed wouldn't be too happy about it. At least, it'd be a sort of suspicious conversation. "Can you drop your pants in the game?" "Oh, sure, I'll just- heeeyy . . ." I might be able to convince him to do something along the lines, but we'll see. Any backups, just in case that doesn't work?

**8:34PM one week ago**

**Vallee:**

Hahaha Ed dropping his pants? That's heaps good, Cooks XD

Oh, if he won't do that, can you get him to wink at the camera?

-Edited by Vallee at 8:36PM one week ago-

**8:36PM one week ago**

**Cooks:**

I don't think the camera would be able to pick that up, unless it's during an interview or something. Maybe he could give a thumbs up. I mean, if pants-dropping is out of the question ;)

**8:45PM one week ago**

**Player#1:**

Alright, I'll ask him. I'm kind of worried he won't do it, but if I play it just right he might.

**1****1:53PM one week ago**

**missus-m:**

no wai ur roy mustang?

**1:41AM six days ago**

**ConStellaTion:**

Roy Mustang is actually on our forum? Player, I don't know what to call you. Do we still call you Player, or Roy, or what?

**9:37PM six days ago**

**Cooks:**

Hey, I know you're all getting excited, but let's wait until we see any sign on the game. It's airing tomorrow at 4pm if everyone wants to see Ed either dak himself or give a thumbs up or something. Personally, I'm hoping for the former :D

**4:37PM five days ago**

**Cooks:**

OMG ROY MUSTANG IS ON OUR FORUM!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! XD

**5:32PM five days ago**

**ConStellaTion:**

I wouldn't have thought Ed wears briefs. you learn something new evry day! Roy, I totally love you btw.

**5:37PM five days ago**

**Vallee:**

Hahaha, that was awesome! I mean, he didn't totally pull his pants down or anything, but . . . well, I suppose doing that in a game might have gotten him in trouble.

**8:45PM five days ago**

**Cooks:**

Yeah, probably. Still, he has a cute butt. Sorry for the double post up there, people, I was just really excited. I could edit it out if it's a bit hassle to anyone.

. . . Ed looks good in Bonds, even if it's only from the back. Player/Roy, you must worked some pretty good magic in convincing him, because (just in case you didn't see it yourself) after everyone went back to their positions after Ed's first goal, on the way back he pulled down the back of his pants, gave a thumbs up _and_ winked at the camera. Just as it went for a close-up, too, so we got to see each signal up close and personal. Ahh, it's times like this that I wish Winry was out of the picture.

**9:05PM five days ago**

**Player#1:**

Hey, don't knock Winry. She's good with Ed – she makes him happy, and a happy Ed is a good Ed.

Just got back from post-game celebrations, and I'm tired as anything. I had my doubts for a little bit, but I guess he was being generous.

**9:10PM five days ago**

**Cooks:**

I'll never doubt you again, Player/Roy :3

**9:12PM five days ago**

**Player#1:**

Haha, nice to know. Just call me whatever you're comfortable with (Roy, Player, Rayer, Ploy, whatever it may be). I'm really tired now so I'm going to head off, but I'll be on tomorrow.

**9:17PM five days ago**

**Cooks:**

Alright. Sweet dreams, Ploy ;)

**10:04PM five days ago**

**Vallee:**

Lol Ploy. That is totally your new nickname.

* * *

Roy couldn't help but gape at the screen. He remembered that point of the game. He'd thought Ed was just doing some sort of fan-service, but . . . Who the heck could this _Player#1_ guy be? If he knew Ed, and was claiming to be Roy, who knew what sort of mischief they might get up to – or what rumours they may spread! Roy shuddered at the idea of liking Ed. Personally, he was into women. This was just plain scary.

In a desperate attempt to snatch at an answer, he rushed back to the person's profile, and instead of just skimming it, he read it thoroughly until he came to something that looked familiar.

Email: misteree-at-ssss-dot-com

His mouth fell open. When he had looked at the profile earlier the email address had been his own, the one that the email had been sent to, and that was definitely not it. Someone had been on in the past few minutes and changed it while he was there. Few people who knew that address knew the three different ways to read it. Roy had had them all pointed out by the owner of the address himself, on a whim.

Number one, aurally: 'mystery'

Number two, aurally: 'Mister E.'

Number three, visually: 'Mister E. E.'

Oh, he was going to _kill_ Edward Elric.

* * *

_Well, I can't just leave it there, can I? The next chapter will be a continuation with some confrontation (or at least, that's the plan right now)._

_Thanks once again to Natsumi Sendo! She's drawn another fanart for me, this time of Addy, Bryce and Bianca together. You can find it at this address, minus the spaces but not the dashes:_

_natsumi726. deviantart. com/ art/ thank-you-daddy-70232085_

_If any of you have any ideas for the story, feel free to let me know. Since it's a group of oneshots (well, mostly), instead of one big continuous piece, suggestions from reviewers should be easier to incorporate. If you come up with something that doesn't contradict, counter, or pre-empt anything that I have planned, I'll have a shot at putting it in. If I can't do it for some reason, I'll let you know why without giving too much away._

_Thanks go out to all you readers and reviewers :)_


	6. In Which Apologies Are Skirted Around

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** It's ready already! Yaay! Who would have known that I'd complete a chapter so fast XD I suppose that in this case, it's carrying on from the previous one, so I had, in effect, already started this section of the story. And the funny thing is that while I was writing this, I got ideas for two other chapters. They're not really so light-hearted as the rest of this has been, though, so I'll have one as the next chapter, and might have a chapter or two in between, just so it's not two heavy ones in a row. Anyway, because I was so brimming with ideas, the next chapter after this is partially written, on note-paper, and I need to type it up. It's four or five A4 pages already, so that might translate to two or three MS Word pages. Then I'll just need to add onto it a bit and edit.

* * *

**Chapter Five: In Which Apologies Are Skirted Around**

The Elric boys, young and talented as they were, both still lived in their parents' home. The house had been improved with the income Ed received from the soccer club, but it was still the house they had grown up in, in the very neighbourhood they had known all of their lives.

Tall, white-painted walls made the place seem welcoming, and the flowers out in the garden – Mr. Elric was quite the gardener – shone brightly in the daylight. The whole setting looked picture-perfect, and the only thing that ruined it was one of the two figures standing in front of the house.

"Honestly, Roy, I can understand why you're upset, but in this state you're not going to do anything but make it worse," Riza told him.

Steadfastly ignoring her, he pushed the buzzer for the intercom again. Finally, Trisha Elric's calm voice rang out.

"Who is it?"

Riza pushed Roy's hand aside and lent in front of him to stop him from trying to take over. "Trisha, hi – it's Riza. Roy's got a bit of a problem with Edward, and we –"

"A _bit_ of a problem?!" he interjected

She spoke over him, raising her voice until he finished. "– were hoping that we could talk with him about it."

There was a short pause in which Riza knew Trisha had taken the time to sigh. The older woman was all too used to her son's high-jinks, but they didn't usually warrant a visit from both the victim and his wife. "Alright, I'll come let you in." There was a quieter call of "Al–" as though she had turned away from the intercom to talk, and then the electronic hum stopped.

A quiet growl from Roy's throat made Riza look at him sharply. Half an hour earlier she had been drawn upstairs to the study by the foul language emanating from the room. Clearing her throat had made Roy stop and look up, but his expression remained identical to that of a thundercloud. He told her what had happened, and announced that he was going to pay Ed a little visit, and Riza decided it might be prudent for her to accompany him. That had left her with the problem of what to do with the girls, but luckily Gracia hadn't objected to taking care of them on short notice, at least not for an hour or so.

The door opened before them, and Trisha Elric let the Mustangs in. They were ushered through into a sitting room, where Trisha motioned for them to have a seat. "I sent Al to go and get Ed. He should be here soon. Should– . . . Should Hohenheim and I be present for this?"

Even as Roy opened his mouth and started to shake his head, Riza put a hand on his arm. "You needn't go get Hohenheim, but it might be a good idea for you to stay – just so that things don't get out of control."

While they waited for the perpetrator himself to arrive, Riza began to explain the situation to Trisha, so she'd have some idea of what was happening, rather than falling behind and being utterly confused as Ed and Roy battled it out. Mrs. Elric's eyes narrowed in disbelief as the other woman went on.

When Ed finally arrived, younger brother and girlfriend in tow, Trisha snapped at him to sit down and closed the door to keep the other two out. The smirk that had appeared on his face when he saw Roy dropped, and he sat down, somewhat meekly, as all three adults in the room watched him. His mother was frowning at him, Riza was giving him that piercing look that could make even a grown man feel as though he was being weighed and measured to the last gram and millimetre, and Roy was glowering fiendishly in his direction.

"So what's the deal, then?" he asked, sounding as innocent as a boy who had just flushed his brother's pet turtle down the toilet.

"What's the _deal?_" both Roy and Trisha started. Trisha stopped, looking in Roy's direction, but Roy, who had jumped to his feet, just ploughed on. "Do you understand what you may have just done to my career? If word of half of what you said or implied gets out of that forum – and it will: you know how much fans gossip – I could be dragged through so many puddles that the legitimate image I have won't even be recognisable! The moment the press catches onto whatever has been said, there'll be a huge fuss about that, and have you thought about what that might do to me and my family?"

Ed slouched lazily on the lounge. "So . . . you're angry that I said you were bi?"

Riza watched Roy, and the disbelief and anger that flashed over his face.

"You not only told a whole group of fangirls that I'm bisexual – which I am _not_ – but also made them believe that I have some sort of crush on you and that I've 'observed' about half the guys on the team," he roared.

"Roy," Riza said, trying to stop his big tirade to give him a chance to calm down.

"In doing _that_, you've also made my relationship with my family seem weaker, and less important to me than it actually is. Even as a _clearly_ heterosexual male, I have learnt to honour my wife and children–"

"Hey, when the forum people started dissing your relationship with Riza I stuck up for you there," Ed butted in.

"You stuck up for me? All they were doing was responding to the previous information you had given about me and using that as a jump-start for their ideas. _You started them thinking like that._ If- If your idea of marriage is that when a husband starts looking at anyone and everyone else everything can still be considered fine, then you'd better let Winry know so that she can leave you before things get too serious." He took a deep breath and blew it out noisily. "I _don't_ know what you were trying to accomplish with all of this, and I don't know why you would do it, but _you_ are going to fix it all."

It seemed that Roy had finally finished his ranting, because he folded his arms over his chest and looked at Ed expectantly. He didn't sit down, and Riza didn't urge him to. She thought he needed some time to burn a little bit of energy first.

Ed shrugged, trying to look less shaken by the yelling-at Roy had just given him than he actually was. "Eh, alright. So how am I going to fix it, then?"

"If you actually want to be on a forum, just create your own account. By all means pretend to be no one in particular, or let them all know you are yourself, but don't pretend to be another actual person," Roy said, now talking at a normal volume. "You're going to fix this situation by taking . . . ah, I forget who. By taking someone's suggestion for a video. You'll post it on the forum, and it will explain who you really are, that everything of what you've told them is a lie, and you will make an official apology to me on it.

"Okay," Ed said, all too easily.

"And," Trisha added, "after you've done that, I'm taking away your laptop until the end of next month, and if, in two weeks' time, you want to use the family computer, you will ask your father or myself, and will be supervised for the length of time in which you choose to use it."

Ed groaned.

* * *

When things had finally been sorted out, and Roy and Riza were about to leave, Roy stopped Edward for a moment, as Riza and Trisha spoke with each other.

"What I don't understand," Roy told him, "is how I got an email about the forum in the first place. Can you explain that to me?"

A cheeky grin appeared on Ed's face. "I got bored. I thought that if you saw it all I might be able to get an interesting reaction out of you, so I changed the email address all my forum emails would be sent to, logged out, and clicked the 'I forgot my password' button. Then, when I thought I'd given it enough time, I changed my email back."

So, in the end, Roy had only found out because Ed intended for him to find out? "You have one strange sense of entertainment, Elric."

Ed shrugged. "Eh, I know." The grin returned for a moment. "Hey, did you like my password?"

Roy frowned, thinking back. "It was a series of random letters and numbers."

Ed looked at him in disbelief, then rolled his eyes. "Gosh, your generation. None of you understand leet at all."

"What?" Funny that Ed mentioned not understanding.

"Never mind."

* * *

Two days later later, just out of curiosity, Roy went back to the forum. He didn't know how he was going to find what he was looking for, but after checking the Edward Elric section and not finding it there, he want to the Roy Mustang section. Sure enough, there was a new thread by _Player#1_, entitled "About Me . . ."

* * *

**8:16PM two days ago**

**Player#1:**

Well, there's something that I need to tell you guys.

-video-

* * *

Roy clicked the play button on the video and watched it. It started out with the camera facing down.

"Hi everyone. After a bit of an angry confrontation, I've been told that I need to set the facts straight. You see, as you can probably tell from my voice, I'm not Roy Mustang. I am–" and the camera swivelled up to his face "–Ed Elric. Hi. Okay, so this is what the deal is. I made that account so that I could mess with the real Roy Mustang's mind a bit, but he didn't really seem to find it of his own accord, so I eventually arranged it so that he would, and when that happened he wasn't too pleased.

"About . . ." Ed paused to think, "two hours after I had a conveniently placed email sent to him, he stormed over to my house with his wife – who I suspect came to keep him in line – and after some very heated shouting, made it clear that I had to tell you all the truth. I don't know if you guys know on that end of the spectrum, but as soon as fans start saying that a person has this or that characteristic, it can get out of hand and become some pretty nasty gossip. And of course, if it's spoken about enough, then it gets into the papers, and once it gets into the papers _everyone_ starts thinking along those lines about a person, and even if the player himself knows it isn't true, it can still have a pretty bad effect on the quality of his life, because of the way that other people will treat him and the potential mistrust from friends and family members who don't know whether to believe what the media says or not.

"So. These are the facts that I need to set straight: Roy Mustang . . ." he winced and looked off camera for a moment. "I don't want to use that word. I just used it."

"Go on brother," the voice of Al Elric said, slightly muffled because it wasn't close enough to the mic.

Ed rolled his eyes and turned back to the camera. "Well, Roy Mustang is one of the things I'm setting straight. No, wait. That makes it sound like I turned him off guys. He didn't like guys in the first place," he added, shaking a finger at the camera. "He's quite attached to his wife – at least, they seem much better together now than when I first met them – and his family means the world to him. So all that stuff that I said about him having a crush on me, or him and all the other guys in the locker-room wasn't true. He likes girls.

"Erm. I think that's about it. Most of what I said was true to some extent, because I was pretty much just trying to mess with him by making him sound gay. But . . . I couldn't do that properly, because of Riza, and the fact that they've just had a second daughter, so obviously he _isn't_ repulsed by women, so bi was the closest I could get. And no, for those who are curious, I'm not gay, just taken. I wasn't lying when I said that Winry makes Ed happy . . . Well, at least when we're not fighting. She kind of overheard something Roy was yelling about my idea of proper relationships . . . She kind of overheard _all_ of what Roy was yelling, but this part was just– well. Never mind about that. Even if she's not talking to me right now, I still love her, and so . . ." he trailed off, playing with something on his desk that was out of the camera's sight, and not seeming to remember what he was on about.

After realising just how off track he was, Ed looked back up at the camera. "Anyway, this is my official apology to Roy Mustang for what I've said about him or implied about him on this forum, uhm, and to let you guys know that I'll still be on, just not for the next two weeks minimum because . . . I'm effectively internet-grounded. Nice to meet you all properly! I'll be back in a bit."

There was an awkward pause in which Ed stared at the camera for a few seconds but nothing happened. "Al. Al you can turn it off now." Then the video finished.

* * *

**8:35PM two days ago**

**ConStellaTion:**

Okay, so Roy Mustang isn't on our forum, but Ed Elric is?

**11:54PM two days ago**

**BeForward:**

Player, didn't you prove to everyone that you're Roy Mustang?

**2:48AM YESTERDAY**

**Vallee:**

Ya, he did Be, but he prove it by making Ed do something, so if he's really Ed then that could probably make sense.

**9:23AM YESTERDAY**

**ConStellaTion:**

That's really sad that he lied to us, tho. Like, I know he was trying to play tricks on the real Roy Mustang, but he was our friend.

**2:34PM YESTERDAY**

**Cooks:**

Ed Elric is on our forum . . . _Ed Elric_ is on our forum . . . okay, Cookie, breathe properly . . .

-squee!- XD

I know that he lied to us and that's really terrible, but the thing is that he's fessed up now and told us all the truth. I know I'm just a rabid Eddy fan, but . . . please can we not be angry at him?

Ed, that's too bad about Winry. It's really cute how you like her like that, though. Just letting you know, if anything ever drives you two apart, there's always me . . . ;)

**3:53PM YESTERDAY**

**missus-m:**

ed elric lyed to us n sed he wuz roy? wat jack. how do we no he didn't jus get ed 2 make that vid to trick us?

**7:13PM YESTERDAY**

**Vallee:**

I don't think he would trick us twice, but if one's a trick then that would mean the other isn't, right? So he's either telling the truth in the video or its a trick. I think the video is the truth, because it has all tose mistakes in it. Not mistakes, but just when he's all, like, real.

**10:26PM YESTERDAY**

**ConStellaTion:**

Yeah, I don't think the video's a trick. Otherwise that would be even more slack.

**8:10AM TODAY**

**missus-m:**

he did say that he had influns ova ed. that's how he provd he wuz roy in the first plays. mebbe he just uzd his influns ova ed 2 ge thim to mak this 1.

**9:31AM TODAY**

**Cooks:**

Nah, somehow I don't think that's the case. Well, I don't _want_ to think that's the case. I mean, what Ed said about having to apologise for all the things he's made Roy Mustang out to be . . . I can imagine someone getting angry over half of those things, and weren't we all amazed by how the Player we knew was nothing like what we imagined the real Roy Mustang would be like? So Ed's probably telling the truth in the video. He made half that stuff up to mess with Roy.

Although, I am curious. Why would Ed want to mess with Roy?

* * *

Roy watched the screen, and the little 'reply' button at the bottom was tempting him. He thought that normally in a forum a person had to be logged in to reply to a topic, but this one still had the reply button there and no message to say that he couldn't use it.

* * *

**10:42AM TODAY**

**Guest:**

Good, Ed, except you didn't actually say sorry in that. You just claimed the whole thing as an apology.

To all others, I'm sorry for whatever confusion he may have caused, but yes, 'Player#1' is Ed Elric. No, we're not conspiring to confuse you into believing another lie. The video is not a trick. And the reason why Ed would want to mess with me is because he always does. Half the time he doesn't seem to think through what he's doing and the effect that it might have on people's lives, though.

Thank you for your support as fans.

Roy Mustang.

(The real one.)

* * *

He decided not to return to the forum to look at it anymore, and as such, Roy missed out on the posts questioning the reliability of his own message, and the few fangirling posts that seemed to accumulate anywhere there was mention of the soccer players.

* * *

_For those who don't have the uber leet skills to translate Ed's password for themselves, "__myw1f3h45gun5", translates into 'mywifehasguns', which works in two ways. (Remember, he's pretending to be Roy.) Way number one coincides with the original FMA: Riza uses guns. Duh. Way number two coincides with modern ways of thinking, and the fact that Riza is pretty much all muscle. 'Guns' is one way that some guys refer to their arm muscles. So, since it's in a modern setting, Ed was using the password to say that Riza has muscles. He wanted to have a leet version of "mywife'sgunsarebiggerthanmine" to make Roy sound as though his muscles were teensy, but he was only allowed to have up to fourteen letters or numbers in his password._

_Also,_ _between the last chapter and this one, I myself did a little bit of artwork for the story :3 It's an illustration of the prologue, and I posted it with both uncoloured and coloured. So you can find it at one of these address, minus the spaces but not the dashes:_

_dailenna. deviantart. com/ art/ Soccer2-Prologue-Uncoloured-71158851_

_dailenna. deviantart. com/ art/ Soccer2-Prologue-Coloured-71159121_

_Thanks for reading! Please review!_


	7. In Which Mothers Are Protective Of Their

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, but I do own Addy, Bryce and Bianca :3

**Notes:** I had most of this chapter written before I finished writing chapter five XD It's only taken me this long to get it done because I had to do a timeline. Yes, had to. I decided I wanted to know when my characters should be getting older, instead of remaining young forever. I mean, I'm working with little kids here - I need to know what stage of development they're in. Little kids get older faster than adults XD Anyway, this chapter is a bit more melancholy as compared to the others. I have another melancholy one planned, but want to put something more light-hearted in first. If I don't get any ideas I'll just go ahead with the other one I have in mind, though, so that I don't leave you hanging for ages. Feel free to make suggestions.

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**Chapter Six: In Which Mothers Are Protective Of Their Children**

Autumn was a good season, in most people's books. It wasn't cold, like winter; it wasn't rainy, like spring; it wasn't scorching, like summer. There was enough warmth in at least the first few months of autumn to make good use of swimming pools, and common colds weren't yet setting in as the norm.

Somewhere not _too_ far from the home of the Mustangs was a woman who both loved and despised autumn. Autumn was the season that brought the last of the bushfires, only with more crispy fodder for them. Autumn was the season that took her father away from her when she was young. Autumn was the season in which her first three boyfriends – and several more since then – dumped her. But, autumn was also the season that had given her the gift of her son.

She sat at the edge of the Olympic-sized pool at the local pool club, dangling her legs in the shallow end and watching him splashing around. He knew how to keep his head above the water, but she'd given him floaties anyway, pushing one up each arm until they stuck. He was a stubborn child, wanting to do everything himself, and she'd resolved that if he didn't want her there all the time, she'd at least give him the protection she could.

It had changed her. Being a mother, that was. Not to say that she didn't still enjoy a lot of the things that she had used to, but her tastes had adapted to fit her little boy. She still drank, but not as often nor as heavily. She still smoked, but never in the house, and only one a day, usually after the little one was in bed. She still enjoyed her men, but now she was a mother she attracted a whole different sort: the long-term type. In fact, she'd had a few of the long term type only to realise that she couldn't put up with their irritabilities and attention-seeking ways. Oddly enough, the same traits weren't half as annoying in her own child.

She had a man now, actually. Yes, a long-term one. This one had his problems, just like any other, but they didn't sum up to make him one big mess. They shared vices, which made his easier to put up with, and his occupation was somewhat suited to her son. The two boys got on well together.

Crossing one leg over the other, she watched as the man – her man – waded over to her boy.

"Genie, genie!" the boy laughed, clinging to a strong arm.

"Yeah, kid, I'm here."

It was cute how the nickname had stuck. She supposed that it was because the boy had been going through an Aladdin phase at the time the two met, and it had just remained, even as he moved on to more modern movies and shows.

"I wanna fly!"

The man tapped his nose. "What's the magic word?"

"I _wish_ I can fly!" the boy splashed happily.

The man paused, then shrugged. "Close enough."

Genie – for that's how she thought of him when he was being a big kid – picked up the boy attached to his arm and swung him up out of the water, giggling mass and all. They went round, up and down until she called out "That's enough, Genie, lunch wasn't too long ago and we don't want him to be sick in the pool."

By means of reply, Genie aeroplaned the little boy to the edge of the pool. The boy jumped right back in, but one rather human genie hoisted himself out of the water, and sat down beside her, putting his arm around her waist.

As they sat there, his hand warm against her hip, she couldn't help but think about the autumn she had been given her son, four years ago. _Then_, she had been all alone, and had to get through it herself. That was because of the condition of his conception, of course – the previous winter.

As a young girl it had been her dream to marry someone famous. Not for a while yet –first she had to have her exciting, adventurous life – but she knew what she wanted, and she knew she would get it. It wasn't that she wanted the limelight – she'd seen what too much illumination could do to a person's head, making them so full of themselves that nothing else could fit in – but she just wanted to know that someone who _mattered_ thought she did too.

So she lived her adventurous life. She did what she wanted when she wanted, and didn't take no for an answer. But when she stopped and realised she was getting older and was nowhere near her dream of marrying well, she knew she had to jump at the slightest chance.

Then, when the chance presented itself, she did jump, hoping that somehow – just somehow – she'd be able to tie him to her. Sure, she had realised he was married – it was hard not to notice the ring on his finger, and he'd told her about five times in attempts to get her to leave him alone, but she had chosen to ignore what he said and to keep pressing on. She'd had her adventures, and she knew that all men's minds could be changed, with the right coercion.

Finally, when he'd drunk enough (he was almost there by the time she'd found him) she had made her move, and all she needed was the tiniest bit of encouragement from him to realise that now was the time, and to suggest they head somewhere less public – her house.

She knew he was drunk. She knew he probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, beyond the knowledge that it _did_ happen. It would be hard to deny it when he woke up and found himself in a strange bed with a strange woman. For a short time, though, as she filtered out his wife's name, it felt as though someone might actually think she was worth something.

When he woke up in the morning, she was lying on his chest, his arm draped around her as she tried to pretend that he would know it was her, and still say he loved her. She, who he had met only the night before. Of course, that wouldn't happen, but if only . . .

There had been a shuddering gasp, and his arm pulled back as though burnt. She looked up at him wide-eyed, only to see the utter horror on his face, instead of the adoration her heart craved.

He pushed her off and leapt up, searching around for his clothing and muttering to himself. He was a sportsman, and his physique was quite a sight to look at – all muscle underneath his skin. Pacing back and forth, he had finished dressing, buttoning up his shirt and glancing at her between mutterings. She remembered that three of the buttons were missing – she had found two of them on the floor and in the bedding later, but the third had been lost. They had been too drunk, and she had been too rushed, for either of them to bother with the fiddly little things.

Finally, when he was fully clothed, he had sat on the edge of the bed, his foot still tapping away. The missing buttons made his shirt billow a little at the bottom, where there was nothing to hold it together, and made him look dishevelled.

"This can't get out, you know," he had told her. "It would ruin everything. My whole life."

All the plans she had been dreaming up toppled over. Not that she was going to spill to anyone, but he had just squashed the quick fantasy that maybe he'd take her hands in his and say "I'll leave her for you. Come and be mine."

She had blinked languidly at him and said "I don't plan on saying anything." While his eyes were on her, she raised herself up on her elbows and mentally congratulated herself when the movement attracted his attention to her bare chest. He groaned and looked away, rubbing at his eyes.

"Good." He stood, paused as though he was going to say something, and left.

She told herself for two weeks that she didn't mean him or his family any harm. Then she missed a period. It didn't even come late. A whole week after it was due there was still nothing, and a cheap pharmacy test proved her expectations. Soon after, a doctor's visit seconded the result.

Most single women wouldn't have welcomed the news that they were pregnant, but once she worked past the surprise she couldn't help but think that maybe this was her second chance. Maybe when he found out he'd change his mind about her.

For a long time she planned how she would tell him. Would it be better to ask before or after she gave birth? Which would have a better impact – a bulging belly or a child? Where did he live anyway, and would she be able to get to him easily? Was she sure he'd react positively, or was she just hoping?

Her mother asked her if she knew who the father was and if she was going to tell him. She had replied that yes, she knew, and she would tell him when she was ready (which of course, had opened up the question of who he was, and she avoided answering it, saying that it didn't affect her mother).

So when her boy was born, she was all alone. She had retreated from her mother, trying to get away from the woman's prying questions, and she hadn't yet told the baby's father, so he couldn't be there to hold her hand. Oh, how she wished he would be. Then she'd be able to pretend that it was normal for her to be having his child, and that there really was something there between them. She would be able to tell herself that he cared about her.

When her boy was two months old, she had decided it was now or never. Steeling herself, she had readied her mind. She had just as much right to the man as his wife did, if not more – she had borne his child, after all. She _would_ be the victor.

It had been easier to get onto their property than she had thought. Instead of having massive security forces or giant gates, the couple had opted to stay outside of the media as much as they could, which meant that it had been hard to find their address, but once she had it, it was easy to get in.

A young, blonde woman had answered the door, polite confusion on her face.

Holding her boy carefully, she reminded herself that she knew the wife would be around. She had prepared for this.

"Hello, is Roy Mustang at home?"

The other woman had frowned. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"My name is Sylvia. And this is Bryce –Roy's son."

The blonde's eyes widened, and although her feet hadn't moved, she wavered on the spot, her breathing becoming louder. After a moment, she seemed to shake herself together, and it had briefly appeared as though she was going to slam the door in Sylvia's face. But then she clenched her jaw, and stepped back.

"Come in," she said briskly. "I'll find him."

Sylvia stepped inside, and had only to wait for a minute while the woman fetched him. When he came into the room, he gasped quietly.

"But . . ! I don't . . ."

"He's yours," she told him. Her arms unintentionally jostled the boy as she tried to make him more visible to the soccer player. "Are you going to take responsibility for him?"

Bryce frowned, opening his eyes the smallest crack and reaching out. He blinked sleepily at the faces above him and yawned a gummy yawn. She couldn't have timed it more perfectly, as the movement caught the adults' attention, reaffirming that this was a real child.

His father's expression wasn't as resolute or as determined as she had hoped it might be. Instead, he had looked at the child in her arms as though it was something to be feared. "He's got my eyes," he whispered.

The blonde woman, who had until now been frozen, whilred around suddenly, as though she had been stung, revealing a little black-haired girl standing behind her and clutching at her mother's hip.

"Addy! Where did you come from?"

It was Sylvia's turn to freeze. She hadn't known he'd have other children. It hadn't even occurred to her that he'd have other responsibilities to take care of as well. She had just assumed that bringing Bryce into the picture would overpower the tie he had with his wife, but could he compare with a daughter as well?

"What are you going to do, then?" she had asked.

His face whipped around towards her. "Now isn't really the time."

"Nothing, Addy," the wife said.

She was confused – she hadn't even heard the daughter say anything.

"Roy, can you take Addy to your parents' house?"

"But–" he looked over at Bryce, then back at his wife. She raised a pale eyebrow, and he frowned before bending over to scoop up his daughter. "Come on, grandma and grandpa can take care of you for a little while. We have something important we need to talk about here." He carried her out in his arms.

The small exchange had given her the slightest hope. He had wanted to stay. He had wanted to be with Bryce. She had been right, after all. Bryce did tie him to her.

When Roy had left, the blonde eyed her and turned about, walking into the next room. Sylvia followed.

Without looking back, the other woman spoke. "How can you do this?"

"How can I tell him he has a son?"

"How can you appear at our house and just do it all so matter-of-factly, as though you aren't ruining our lives?"

Sylvia was taken aback. "I find it harder to imagine Bryce growing up without a father."

The blonde whirled around to face her. "You should have thought of that before you slept with _my husband!_" Her eyes flickered down to the squirming boy in Sylvia's arms and she stepped back.

"Your husband," Sylvia had retorted flatly. "Very well. Do you want to know something about him? He's just like any other man. He will remember what he has, and what he had. Now whenever he looks at his daughter, he'll remember his son. Whenever he looks at you, he'll remember me. He'll be living in this house, but his thoughts will be in mine. As far as he's concerned, you'll be a trophy wife now – still around for appearances, but I will always be the woman he had on the side. Now, Bryce and I are a part of him just as much as you and your daughter are."

It had been going too far. She knew it now, although at the time all she had wanted to do was to protect her son and his future. She didn't care what sort of woman it made her look like. Even if she couldn't be wanted, he still would be.

A wet body against her arm brought her back to the present.

He was out of the pool, sitting by her and leaning up against her. "Is it dinner time yet, Mamma? I'm hungry."

The sun was lowering in the sky and the pool was almost empty. It must have been near to closing time. Her genie wasn't by her side any more, but when she looked up she could see him on his way back from the bathroom.

"Alright, time to go," she said, getting up and pulling her water-wrinkled feet out from the side of the pool. "We'll buy something on the way home."

Bryce cheered and galloped away towards their towels and bags, where he was met by their genie.

"You alright?" Genie asked when she joined them. "You seemed a bit down earlier."

"Oh, I'm fine. I was just thinking about some things. You guys make it all better, though," she smiled.

He looked at her warily, but grinned in return and took her hand, entwining their fingers. "Alright, squirt, we're off. Don't forget anything."

They were her two men, and although she might have spent her youth needing to be needed, it was always good to remind herself that the two loveliest things in her life found her by chance. She didn't need to seek them out as she had tried to, but they were just pulled in like two opposing magnets.

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_Please review!_


	8. In Which Maes Gets Roy Thinking

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, but I do own Addy and Bianca :3

**Notes:** Wow, it took me long enough. I apologise for the wait. I know what I want to include in the next chapter already, so I'll get started on that pretty quickly and hopefully it'll be complete before long. Thank you for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter Seven: In Which Maes Gets Roy Thinking**

Addy liked it when her parents took her with them to visit the Hughes' house. Sure, Elycia was just a little kid, but she was alright for a six-year-old. It was better than having no one to play with except a baby who hadn't yet learnt how to do more than blow bubbles.

The two girls had tried to leave their parents downstairs so that they could go and play, removing themselves from the boring adult talk, but had been held back.

"It's lunchtime, Addy. You girls can go and play when you've had something to eat," Mummy said.

After some careful deliberation, Addy decided to co-operate. This was aided by the fact that Elycia chose to climb into her father's lap so she could eat her lunch from there. Addy didn't quite do the same thing, but she still sidled up to her own father and eyed the food on the table carefully.

When everyone was seated, Addy began to pick at the platters, ending up with what appeared to be a bread-roll, some salad, and a tiny bit of chicken on her plate. She knew she was allowed to have meat if she really wanted it, but if her family didn't have meat at home, then she shouldn't have much now, right? At least, that's what she wanted her parents to think. Unbeknownst to them – or so she thought – she had used the salad to cover most of the meat on her plate. She ate at each of her foods equally, so that it wasn't all uncovered at any point.

To her left, the mothers were holding one conversation, and to her right the fathers were holding another.

"Bianca's almost sleeping through the night these days," Mummy said, glancing over at the pram Daddy was absently rocking. "She's made it until five o'clock these last two nights, and so long as she doesn't go to sleep late in the afternoon, it's definite that she'll sleep until at least three-thirty."

"Really?" Mrs. Hughes asked. "Elycia didn't sleep through until she was almost a year old."

"It took Addy until she was about nine months, but I've found that on the whole Bianca just hasn't been quite as fussy."

Addy turned away, feeling slightly miffed. She made less noise than Bianca. It wasn't like she whinged when she wanted to eat, burp, sleep or poop. _She_ knew how to take care of herself.

The conversation on the other end of the table wasn't interesting either.

"Have you ever wondered what would happen if we put Buccaneer in as a forward?" Mr. Hughes was asking Daddy. "I mean, you can see in practice that he's got great physical stamina, and he's not as slow as his bulk suggests. He'd get through the other teams like he was swatting flies."

Daddy shrugged. "Yeah, but this is soccer, not rugby. He wouldn't be able to go in for a tackle or anything like that. They'd end up out-manoeuvring him easily, and they'd be able to steal the ball. He's great in defence where all he needs to do is get it and boot it up the other end to one of us, but when it comes to all the fancy footwork he still has a bit to learn."

"Fancy footwork is just for show," Mr. Hughes started saying, and Addy stopped paying attention.

It was good food, and good company, but adults were just boring, and Elysia was trying to pay attention to what her father was saying, so she was being boring right now, too. Addy munched on her bread-roll, planning the games she and the younger girl would play when they finally got to leave.

She looked up when she heard her mother say her name.

"Addy just had a friend over a little while ago. It's strange seeing how differently she interacts with other children. Elysia's the only other girl I've really seen her with before, but Lauren was from her school, so I guess they see each other more often."

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "At Elycia's birthday party it was like dealing with a whole new daughter. I suppose even at that age, children act differently around their parents than they do around friends . . ."

Then that awful whimpering started. Everyone's attention turned towards the pram. Daddy reached in and picked the baby up. "Feeding time, is it?"

He looked over at Mummy, who stood up. "Is there another room I can go to . . ?" she asked Mrs. Hughes as she walked over to take Bianca from Daddy.

"Ah, of course!" Mrs. Hughes said, and led Mummy out.

Daddy was absent-mindedly watching the door Mummy and Mrs. Hughes had just left through. Addy went back to eating her food.

Mr. Hughes chuckled. "Enjoy the breast-feeding period while you can, Roy. I assure you, they do shrink back when the kid starts on other food."

Daddy sighed. "I know. But to tell you the truth, that's not what I like best about the post-pregnancy body."

"What is, then?"

"The hips," Daddy said decisively. He was wearing a strange smile on his face – that one Mummy called his smirk. "Riza actually has hips again. She's getting a bit of her old figure back, you know. Do you realise how much convincing I've had to do just to get her not to work it all off straight away? Mind you, taking care of Bianca has made her too tired for much exercise, so that helped a good deal."

Mr. Hughes raised an eyebrow.

"I do my part of the parenting!" Daddy insisted. "I'm just very happy my wife has her curves again."

"Have you thought about having more kids?"

Daddy looked up in surprise, and Addy looked up warily. Elycia had taken her own seat by now and was happily ignoring the men speaking.

"Well, it's not like you're too old for that _yet_," Mr. Hughes reasoned.

Daddy's mouth opened and shut several times as he thought about what to say. Addy was listening carefully. Finally, "I think . . . I'm- I'm quite happy with two, but more isn't completely out of the question." He stopped to think again. "What about yourself? You only have one."

Addy sighed in relief. Any more siblings just now would be too many. She was still getting used to this little pipsqueak.

"I wouldn't want to bust up the Hughes family as everyone knows it," Mr. Hughes said with a grin. "I'm happy with my little Elycia." The girl looked up curiously when she heard her name, and returned her father's smile wholeheartedly.

Ultimately, Addy was thankful when she and Elycia finished eating and could run away from the strange adult conversations to play in the other girl's room. Whatever secret club adults had to join to understand whatever they were talking about, she really did not want to know.

On the way home, in the car, Addy peeked into Bianca's capsule and watched the contented little girl inside. Bianca wasn't half bad, just . . . Always there. Nevertheless, Addy reached in and stroked her sister's hair, watching as tiny hands reached up towards her arm. When they made contact, she pulled back suddenly, scrunching up her face and leaving the young girl blinking slowly confusion. Addy wiped her arm on her shirt. Bianca must have been sucking on her hands earlier, because she had spit all over them. Yuck.

"Riza . . ." she heard Daddy saying, "what would you think about having more kids?"

Addy saw her mother's head turn towards her father quickly. "Already? No! I was still pregnant less than five months ago!"

"No, not now," he reasoned. "Just . . . later. Potentially."

She shrugged. "It's a bit too soon to think about it. We can talk about it again in . . . oh, six months at least."

"Alright," he said light-heartedly. "I was just wondering, that's all. Maes asked."

There was a short laugh. "Of course he did."

Meanwhile, Addy had frozen. They were seriously considering more? With this whinger next to her? She could imagine having more babies in the family, and the picture showed a very tired family. She'd fail all of her classes because she'd never be able to get to sleep from all the crying, and Daddy wouldn't be able to play soccer anymore, and Mummy would get angry again. They couldn't have any more. _Pleeeease?_

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_Reviews are appreciated :D It lets me know if my writing is any good or needs more work, y'know? Helps me to cater to my audience._


	9. In Which Roy Takes Control At The Right

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own FMA D: But Addy, Sylvia and Bryce are aaall mine!

**Notes:** Yaya, I know, it took too long yet again. It's not as bad as last time, though! Less than a month! _And_, considering the plot bunny for the next chapter has already begun (in this chapter, ya? Just continuation.) I won't have to sit around for two weeks thinking "So how should I start this?" like I pretty much did with this one . . . Yet another reason why I shouldn't start new things when I haven't finished the old ones: I slow down majorly on the old ones D: So thank you for hanging around, and here is my angst!chapter that I didn't want to put next to the Sylvia one. Probably because they're both so past-based. But hey, the next chapter will be too XD (See previous 'continuation' note.) And so thank you for putting up with me, and _read on!_ (Plz review :3)

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**Chapter Eight: In Which Roy Takes Control At The Right Moment**

It was a hot autumn night, and Roy was finding it hard to get to sleep. The air was painfully still, not even providing a breeze for his benefit. Roy found himself staring at the ceiling, willing the fan to start spinning. It hadn't been this hot when he first got into bed, and he hadn't felt the need to turn it on. What was the world coming to when autumn felt like summer and summer felt like spring?

Finally, after much internal debate, Roy crawled out of bed very slowly, so as not to wake Riza. She stirred a little as the mattress moved, but he managed to spin the speed dial for the fan and get back into bed without any further fuss.

He was just congratulating himself when she rolled over. He froze, watching for movement, and when there was none he looked closer. Her eyes were still closed, but her expression was somewhat troubled.

"Ri, honey, are you alright?" Roy asked nervously. He'd heard that dreams were just what a person's mind made out of the sounds they heard in their sleep, and thought he might at least be able to help her out subconsciously.

She gave a moan in her sleep, but her expression tightened. For a minute, he considered leaving her alone and going to sleep, but then she took a sharp breath in through her mouth, and her breathing quickened.

After a last moment of indecision, he reached for her arm to shake her awake. When his fingers touched her shoulder she pushed him away with one hand and wrenched back, eyes flying open. At first, she cringed at seeing him so close, but then looked at him and seemed to calm down.

"You were having the nightmare again, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"Riza, it's been two years. Maybe you should see a psychologist–"

She sat up and pulled at the sheet she had kicked off earlier, tugging it from her feet up just beneath her ear as she lay back down, facing away from him. "I don't need a psychologist. We discussed this earlier."

"We said we'd keep an eye on how you're going and contact a professional if it seemed necessary."

"It isn't."

"You haven't dealt with it. You need to talk to someone about this."

"How am I _supposed_ to deal with this, Roy?" she asked, whipping around and staring at him angrily. "I'm trying the best I can. What more do you suggest I can do?"

"I don't know."

"That's right – you don't."

"No, I don't," he reiterated, "but a professional psychologist might have some idea. There'll be patient-doctor confidentiality, Riza. If the guy decides he wants to spread celebrity gossip, he'll be out of a job. I'm willing to risk media it if it's going to help."

She crawled back down into the bed. "Maybe you are, but I'm not."

"Ri . . ."

There was a bit of movement as she adjusted her position. "Can we talk about this some other time?"

Roy frowned. "After training tomorrow. We can't put it off forever."

She didn't reply.

Every few months they'd have the same discussion, and in the morning all of it would be brushed aside as though that sort of conversation shouldn't see the light of day. He could see how much it was affecting her, but she still denied the need for outside help.

Since that night, she just hadn't been the same. Sure, it was mostly a good thing – they got on, most of the time now – but Roy figured that that was a product of being there for her when she needed him. There were still other aspects that he knew were a result of what had happened to her, and if talking to someone about it could make her feel more at ease, then he knew what he thought she should do.

* * *

_She was too stunned to make the call herself. He spoke to her again and again, reassuring her that it was the right decision. They'd never approached anyone about their personal lives before, and she was still having issues reconciling a friend's face with his actions. So Roy made the call on her behalf._

_When he was patched through to the police, the man on the other end asked him if he had a crime to report._

"_Yes, my wife was raped."_

"_Can you tell me when this occurred, sir?"_

"_Ah, maybe an hour or two ago."_

"_If you give me her name and location we'll be able to have an ambulance sent to pick her up."_

_He told the man his address, but the pause after he said his wife's name was Riza Mustang was filled with nothing but disbelief._

"_Yeah, alright, well so long as she's put into the hospital under the same name, the detectives will be able to find her. If she hasn't washed yet tell her not to until she's been examined – the evidence will be fresher that way. Both of you stay where you are, and an ambulance should be there in . . . eight minutes."_

"_Our daughter's asleep. I can't leave her here," Roy interjected quickly, before the man could try to finish the conversation._

"_If you're not comfortable bringing her to the hospital you can call someone to come and get her."_

_Roy had begun pushing the buttons for his parents' number when he heard the water pipes beginning to groan. He cursed and ran to the bathroom, knocking loudly on the door._

"_Riza! Riza, the police say not to shower yet. Riza?"_

_There was no response. He jiggled the handle only to find it was locked._

"_Riza, let me in. You alright?"_

_He heard a muffled "Roy?" and realised that the phone was hanging in his other hand. Someone must have picked up._

"_Yeah, Dad, it's Roy."_

"_Did Riza lock you out of the house?" the older man asked in astonishment, evidently having heard Roy's last comment._

"_No, it's just . . . There's a bit of a problem and we're going to have to head to the hospital," Roy said distractedly. "Would you be able to come and get Addy? I don't want to leave Riza right now."_

"_Is it serious?" came back the worried reply._

"_She's not about to die, but the ambulance is on its way, and I don't want Addy there with us. Can you come get her?"_

"_Yeah, sure, I'll be ten minutes. Less – no traffic."_

"_Great, thanks."_

_Roy hung up and turned back to the bathroom door. "Riza, are you okay in there?"_

_He was still sitting outside the door, trying to make conversation when the doorbell sounded. Red and blue lights flashed in through the window, and he got to his feet carefully._

"_The ambos are here, Riza. I'm just going to go let them in – I'll be right back."_

_Roy didn't like Riza being out of reach at a time like this. After an event like this. She'd seemed to use the bathroom as a retreat from him often enough recently, and the lock on the door made it so hard to get to her when it was necessary. He didn't know whether she was coping or not, and washing evidence down the drain was just going to make it harder to convict this Emlyn, wasn't it? That's what the guy on the phone had said. At least she'd be able to point him out, and that'd make it a lot easier for them._

_Jogging out into the hallway and down the stairs, Roy tried to get to the front door before the bell rang again and woke Addy up. When he pulled the door open, the man and woman standing outside blinked in surprise, and the one on the left moved his hand away from the button next to the doorframe._

_The two of them exchanged surprised glances – yes, he was Roy Mustang – and seeing as they hadn't opened their mouths yet, Roy said "My wife's upstairs," and stepped back to let them in._

_Reminded of their reason for being there, they gave business-like nods. "Lead the way, Mr. Mustang," the woman said._

_Bringing them inside, he led them up into the bedroom to stand outside the en suite door. The water was still running. Roy knocked again, listening carefully._

"_Riza, the ambos are here."_

"_Did the police dispatcher tell you it's better if she hasn't showered?" the man asked._

_Roy nodded. "Yeah, but she was in there already by the time I got off the phone," he explained. "Riza?"_

_There was a click as the lock was undone from the other side, and when the door didn't open Roy gave it a firm push. Riza was sliding down to the floor by the sink, still fully clothed. Stepping in towards her, Roy leant into the shower momentarily to turn the water off. The female paramedic followed him in._

"_Are you alright, Mrs. Mustang?" she asked._

"_Yes. Yes, I'm fine," Riza said with a grimace._

_The doorbell sounded again. "That'll be Dad to take Addy," Roy said. "I'll be right back."_

_He gave another glance towards Riza before making his way out of the room. It appeared that was doing fine at the moment, and they were paramedics anyway – they should have known what they were doing._

_When Roy opened the door his father looked at him anxiously._

"_Come in, come in," Roy told him, rushing the man inside and closing the door after him. "Addy's in her room. I didn't wake her up because she might get worried with all of this fuss."_

"_Everything __**is**__ alright, isn't it?" the man asked as Roy set off up the stairs._

_Over the past few years, Roy had noticed how nosy his parents were. Of course, it had taken him some time to come down off his high horse and realise it always a matter sitting in plain sight and being denied. He got on well with his parents, but how could he tell them about Sylvia, or Bryce? And so they had watched his relationship with Riza fall apart, not understanding why their son and daughter-in-law were arguing so much when they seemed perfectly fine together before._

_And now there was another matter that Roy thought wasn't right to talk about with his father. It wasn't his business to make it known, but there would be so many awkward questions if he didn't. Roy set it aside and resolved to leave it for later, when he wasn't feeling so flustered._

"_It will be."_

_Once upstairs he led his father straight through to Addy's room, ignoring the voices coming from his and Riza's, then without turning on the light – it would make for a rude awakening – Roy found his daughter's backpack and used the moonlight coming through the window to find some clothes to put in for her._

"_It's probably better if she stays all night at your house, rather than having us come and get her before dawn," he said in a hushed whisper. "I don't know how long we're going to be at the hospital, but it would be better for her to still get a whole night's rest."_

_His father didn't say anything, but when Roy turned to face him, holding out the backpack, Roy could see the worried frown on his face. He cast about for something else to say to relieve the tension._

"_Um, I'll try come and get her around lunchtime, but I'll speak with Riza first. Make sure she's alright."_

_There was another moment of silence before the other man reached out and took the bag Roy was still holding towards him. "Take care of her, Roy."_

"_I will."_

_Moving past his father, Roy knelt down beside Addy's bed, brushing hair away from the girl's closed eyes. "Addy. Addy, wake up," he said, his voice a little louder now. He put a hand on her shoulder and nudged her gently._

_Addy's eyes were scrunched up, but she peeked out at him grumpily._

"_Grandpa's here to take you to his house tonight. We've got your things in your bag already, so we just need to get you to the car."_

_Her hands made the sign for 'Why?' sleepily._

"_There was an accident and Mummy's been hurt," Roy said evenly. "She's going to be okay, but I need to go with her to the hospital."_

_Wide eyed, Addy started gasping in air, and asked what sort of an accident it had been._

"_She's alright," he reassured her. "They just want to take her to the hospital to make sure everything's fine."_

_There was a great deal of trembling lower lips, but Roy finally managed to get her up by agreeing to carry her to the car, and she grabbed onto him, burying her head into one of his shoulders and clinging on tighter than a baby koala. Roy coughed a little, but after adjusting her a little bit his neck was slightly less crushed, and he allowed his father to head out first._

_The paramedics were escorting Riza down the stairs when Roy and Addy arrived at the top, and Roy's father's "Riza! What happened?" was enough to make Addy squirm around to look for her mother._

_Riza turned around, surprised, and once they reached the bottom of the stairs she stopped and took the restless Addy from Roy's arms, setting her down right away – Addy had become too heavy for her to carry – but still holding the girl tightly to her._

"_It was- it was . . . It's just- It's nothing, alright, I'm fine."_

_Not much made Riza Hawkeye stutter, and Roy looked at her sadly. "Come on, Dad, we've got this covered."_

_Roy ushered his father out, and picked Addy back up after Riza had given her a kiss and told her she wasn't going to die._

_As Roy buckled Addy in, the older man shook his head disappointedly at him over the roof of the car. "You two and your secrets. Honestly, Roy."_

"_No, Dad, it's just not the right time," Roy said wearily. "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow, when I come get Addy. I just want to get Riza sorted out right now."_

"_Fine," he replied, rubbing at his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."_

_It wasn't the best of partings, Roy knew, but it would do for now, so he waved as they drove off, and jogged over to the ambulance, where Riza was being bundled into the back._

"_Can I come with you?" he asked the paramedics._

_The male paramedic turned to him. "It might be better if you come in your own car – that way you can drive home when everything at the hospital is finished, instead of having to wait for a taxi."_

"_Right," Roy said, looking at Riza's quiet face. "I'll see you there, then."

* * *

_

**Flashback to be continued in next chapter.**

_Thank you everyone :3 Reviews are loved, huggled, and/or what-have-youed. If you have any preferences for which one **you** want, be sure to specify! XD_

_(Don't blame me - it's 1:39AM and I've been trying to get up early, so I'm tiired -yawn- ;o; )_

_-Dai_


	10. In Which Authorities Are Informed

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

**Notes:** Yeah, I took ages with this. A month and a half? I had times when I'd sit down to work on it, and got a grand total of two sentences out before I was completely stuck. Just a few days ago I wanted to work on it, but the computer wasn't free, so I figured I'd just write down the dialogue I thought was coming up. That helped a _lot_. I knew where I was going with things, then. I also did a bit of research and dredged up some Law and Order: SVU episodes for this one. Of course, that means it'll still be inaccurate in the processes taking place, but at least it'll be passable.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: In Which Authorities Are Informed**

_Roy drove behind the ambulance in his own car. The whole time, he found himself staring at the back of the vehicle, as though, if something was wrong, he'd be able to see through the doors to Riza. What may happen to her in the back of an ambulance that they wouldn't be better equipped to handle than he was, he didn't know, but he was going to be prepared for it._

_How could something like this happen? Why did it take him so long to stop being an idiot, and why did he have to treat Riza so badly it drove her away? He could have worded his apologies better and not tried to keep his pride as he made them. If he'd been more humble she wouldn't have been so angry at him, and she wouldn't have stormed off and had dinner with this Emlyn._

_When they arrived at the hospital Riza was immediately taken through to a brown-haired nurse, where the paramedics explained the situation briefly and bluntly, and then moved off to their next job. Roy didn't know the normal procedure, but he was amazed at how quickly it was being dealt with._

_The nurse smiled sympathetically and led them to a relatively private area, where she gestured for Riza to sit on the bed provided. "My name's Laura. I'm really sorry about what happened, Miss Mustang–"_

"_Mrs.," Roy interrupted. He didn't want to sound possessive, but she __**was**__ his wife._

_Laura's mouth opened and closed, but she was smiling again in no time. "Mrs. Mustang," she amended. "It's the hospital's recommendation that rape victims are tested for HIV, due to the unknown sexual past of the rapist. You're allowed to refuse the process if you want to, but I highly recommend that you go through with it."_

_Riza gave a sharp nod, and Roy could see her knuckles going white as her fingers clenched into firm fists in her lap._

"_We'll also draw blood so that we can test for any other sexually transmitted diseases or viruses. We can do a pregnancy test, too. Is that all okay with you?" Laura asked politely._

"_Yes," Riza said in a strained voice. "It's all fine. Just do it all."_

_The nurse asked Roy to give Riza some space – he hadn't noticed just how close he was hovering to her until he was told to step back – and produced a syringe. She quickly drew some blood and handed Riza a cotton bud to hold over the spot while she disposed of the blood and syringe in the appropriate manner._

_After that, Laura looked Riza over. "Are these the clothes you were wearing when you were raped?"_

_Roy nodded along with Riza._

"_Alright, I just need you to stand up so I can see if there's any visual evidence – rips and tears . . ."_

_Roy watched as the woman looked Riza over carefully. There was some "hmm"ing and bustling about, and Laura produced a Polaroid camera in the same way she had the syringe. She took photographs of a slit in the back of Riza's dress that was a part of the design – a rip had made it two or three inches longer than it was meant to be. Following this, she sent Roy out ("Yes Roy, I'll be fine," Riza told him) and closed the curtain to give Riza some measure of privacy._

_By the time Roy was called for, he had spotted two people walking into the room in a businesslike manner. The blazers they wore and the professional way in which they held themselves assured him that they were either the media or the detectives that the police dispatcher had mentioned. He ignored them and ducked through the curtain, knowing they'd most likely be over in a minute anyway._

_Riza was sitting morosely on the bed, now dressed in a loose-fitting hospital gown. Laura was using some fiddly instrument to clean beneath Riza's fingernails, and was wiping the gunk into a little bag._

_The small gap Roy had left in the curtains was filled, and the woman in the blazer flashed her badge. "Riza Mustang? I'm Detective Reigner, and this is my partner, Detective Gallows. We'd like to speak with you about your rape, when you're done here."_

_Laura put down the nail-cleaning instrument and scowled at the Detectives as she folded the evidence into a small, sterile packet. "Yes, after she's done. If you'll excuse me I need to start the pelvic exam."_

_Reigner nodded. "We'll be in the hallway when you're ready."_

_As they left, Laura pulled the curtain shut irritably. She gave a short sigh and turned to the worried-looking Riza, a reassuring smile on her face. "I'm told they're perfectly nice people when it comes to it, but they always manage to interrupt at the worst possible times."_

"_You've met them before?" Roy asked, thinking of the doubtful look that had been on the woman detective's face before she left._

"_Oh yes. Three or four times in the last two years. Terrible timing, every visit," the nurse said, exchanging her hospital gloves for a new set. "Other than that I've never heard a complaint about them, though."_

_A doctor, who had been paged some time ago, it seemed, slipped in through the curtain, pulling it shut again behind her. She had dull red hair and a harried expression, as though she was supposed to be in three different places at the moment. She immediately moved over to the box of hospital gloves and pulled out a set for herself._

"_Hello, I'm Doctor Montgomery," she said briskly. "I'm going to be doing your pelvic exam, and Nurse Morris is going to be right here, helping me out."_

_Shuddering, Roy distinctly tried to think of other things._

"_Do you want your husband here, or should we send him out?" Laura – Nurse Morris, Roy surmised – asked Riza._

_For a moment Riza just looked at Laura with a blank expression, as though she was staring right through her, then she seemed to come back to life. "Here."_

_When she stared like that, Roy didn't know what to do. He could see in the way that her jaw trembled that she was still thinking about what had happened, but he didn't know whether to stop her or if that was overstepping his bounds yet again._

_Relieved that she didn't want him gone, Roy stood at the head of the bed and as Riza was ordered to do this and that, he preoccupied himself with chatting meaninglessly to her so that she didn't have to think about what was going on. He had progressed all the way through Addy's problems with her homework, the pool not being entirely clean, a new dish he had heard about that he thought he might mention to the cook, and the merits of dogs as compared to cats (and fish as compared to budgerigars), when the exam seemed to be complete and Riza told him quite plainly to shut up._

_He looked at her with concern, and noticed just how tired she looked. Her eyelids were drooping and she sat still for a long time, watching her feet even as Doctor Montgomery said that that would be all, and did she want the detectives to be called in, now?_

"_Yes. Thank you," was Riza's abrupt answer. She shuffled to the edge of the bed and took the hand Roy held out, to help her stand up._

_Doctor Montgomery whisked away out of the room, and left Laura to open the curtains properly, and to collect all of the evidence. "I'll be back in a few minutes with some proper clothing for you to wear home," Laura told Riza, heading out just as Detectives Reigner and Gallows came back in._

"_Mrs. Mustang, we'd like you to come back to the police station with us, so we can get an official statement from you about the rape."_

_Roy gave her hand a squeeze. "The nurse just went to go and get some clothes for her. I can drive Riza over once she's dressed – I have my car here."_

_There was a pregnant pause in which the detectives both turned to Roy and fixed their eyes on him, looking him over intently. The expressions on their faces reminded Roy of a pair of dogs, cautiously testing the air._

"_Could you come outside while we talk to your wife for a moment, sir?" Gallows said, taking a step towards him. The movement showed the coiled muscle beneath his clothing, and by the way he stared down his nose at Roy, it was meant to be intimidating. Roy was too used to having the upper hand to be affected._

_Tightening her fingers around Roy's hand, Riza scoffed. "No, Detectives, he wasn't the one to do it. I wouldn't have let him stick around if he did, and I doubt the hospital would have allowed him in here with me."_

_That was how the two of them found their way to the police station, twenty minutes after Laura had returned with a shirt and some pants for Riza._

_An officer brought coffee for them, and Roy sipped his gratefully, knowing he'd probably need it to keep his eyes open on the drive home. Riza didn't touch hers, instead leaving it where the man sat it down on the table. Her eyes wandered around, giving her a vague look quite different to the focussed gaze she normally kept. It seemed to be fairly constant tonight, though._

"_Alright, Mrs. Mustang," Detective Reigner said, sitting down next to her partner. "Could you tell us what happened?"_

_Riza frowned at the table in front of her, and Roy thought that, if anything, it looked as though her lips had just closed even tighter._

"_Where were you were at the time of the attack?" Reigner prodded gently. _

_There was an earnest look on the detective's face that Roy knew Riza couldn't see, but the tone of voice seemed to get through, because Riza gave a very specific address: street, suburb, apartment building and the apartment itself. Roy was almost tempted to ask her to repeat it, so that he could go make a 'visit' to the place._

_Detective Gallows wrote the address down in a notebook he held._

"_Who lives there?" Reigner asked._

"_Emlyn. It- It was him." Riza's eyes were still on the table in front of her, but now they widened as if she was looking at the man's face. She seemed to freeze._

_Reigner's reached across the table to briefly take Riza's hand. Riza looked up, surprised, and Reigner said, "Who is Emlyn?"_

"_Emlyn's . . ." Riza looked away, mouth twisting. "He was a friend. My boss at work."_

"_Does he have a last name?"_

"_Greed. Emlyn Greed."_

_Reigner turned and gave a short nod to Gallows, who was scribbling away again. He must have caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, though, because he nodded in return. She then turned back to Riza. "Can you tell us what happened?"_

_Straight away, Riza's gaze fell to the edge of the table. She sat straight-backed and proud, but Roy could recognise the signs of her pulling away already. It was the clenched jaw that did the trick – if she didn't want to open her mouth, it would take a crowbar to separate her lips._

_The detective was trying anyway, either not recognising the signs or thinking she could change Riza's mind. "It's okay," Reigner said. "Just start from the beginning. Why were you at the apartment?"_

_Roy felt Riza let go of his hand, and looked to see that she had balled her fists in her lap. An empty gaze fell on the table, the mind behind her eyes not focussing them because it was elsewhere at that moment. He shifted in his seat, turning so that he faced towards the detective, but still kept an eye on Riza._

_When Riza still didn't reply, Gallows looked up from his notepad, over which his pen was poised. He glanced Riza, then Roy, and then his partner, his brows slowly drawing closer._

_Reigner looked about to open her mouth again, but Roy interrupted. "We'd been arguing. The day before, and just before she left."_

"_Roy," Riza hissed, her tone hinting at a warning._

"_No, it's alright, Riza. They're here to help us." He turned to the detectives. "There's . . . no chance of this being released to the media, is there?"_

_Gallows shook his head. "If we catch him, the case will go to court, and there's no doubt the media will catch wind of that. You can ask that the press be banned from the courtroom for the duration of the trial, and any information you tell us now will be kept to those who need to know for the sake of the case."_

"_See?" Roy said to Riza. He paused, trying to remember what she had told him when she arrived home. "I'd said some stupid things, and when I tried to apologise it didn't come out right, so I ended up making things worse. That meant when Riza left she was in a bad mood with me already. I tried calling her to apologise, but . . . I think you said your battery died?"_

_Riza nodded stiffly, her eyes somewhat softened. "Emlyn invited me out to dinner because things were bumpy at home. It was supposed to distract me from all of our arguments. We had just driven back from the restaurant when I found Roy's message, but the battery died halfway through, and it just reminded me of everything happening and made me angry again. Emlyn said I could call a taxi from his apartment, but by the time I was up there I was- . . . I didn't want to go back home to Addy in the mood I was in. Emlyn made us some coffee and he was saying that I shouldn't put up with Roy anymore – that he didn't deserve me – and all of a sudden he was kissing me, and his tongue was inside my mouth, and it took me a minute to realise what was happening. He- He was unbuckling his pants, and unzipping my dress – like he was trying to make it easier for me or something – but when I started pushing him away he just grabbed my hands, told me to shut up, then hiked up my dress and r-raped me."_

_A shudder ran through Roy's body. He shook himself to clear his head, to push away the anger clouding his eyes._

"_What happened after that?" Reigner asked quietly._

_Riza's eyes blinked open and closed so many times in the next few seconds that it was almost as though she was using them to transmit Morse Code. When she had herself under control, she kept her eyes on the coffee cup before her. "He just stood up, dressed himself, and walked away."_

"_What did you do? How did you get home?"_

"_I called a taxi. Well, I fixed my clothes up first. I laid there on the lounge for a while, sort of . . . trying to understand what exactly had just happened. Then I got up and looked around to find his phone, and called a taxi. The person who answered said it would take fifteen minutes for the car to get there, but I didn't want to wait in the apartment, so I went to look for my bag, and when I looked up he was standing in the doorway, drinking his coffee and staring at me. I walked to the door as quickly as I could, and he followed me, and stopped me before I could leave, saying, 'I'm a greedy man, Riza – I always want what I can't have, until I get it.' Then he pushed me out and closed the door behind me, like he'd had enough of me." A snarl appeared on Riza's lips before she schooled her mouth back into its matter-of-fact sneer. "I went down to the lobby and waited there for the taxi, then went home."_

_By the end of the night – or morning, really – they had asked Riza everything about Emlyn, her previous relationship with him, conversations they'd had, and even coaxed out what little information they could about Roy and Riza's arguing, where it was relevant – or so they said. Roy was happy to supply anything he could, so long as it helped put the bastard behind bars, but eventually he was growing tired, and Riza's posture had slumped. He was happy when the detectives finally told them that that would be enough for now._

"_If you need anything else to help with the case . . ." Roy said, guiding Riza out the door._

"_We'll let you know," Reigner nodded._

* * *

**Flashback to be continued in next chapter.**

_The plan is that that chapter will be the last. I don't think I have enough material to make a whole chapter-worth out of the next one, but we'll see how that goes, right?_

_Thank you for your patience. Reviews are good ways of telling me what to work on or if I'm doing okay . . ._

_-Dai_


	11. In Which Justice Is Served

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA. I do own Addy, Bianca, and all the random side characters you haven't met before.

**Notes:** Guess what! It's only been about a week and I've finished this chapter already! How on-time am I (for once)? This chapter just came so easily that it was like it had a life of its own. I've spent weeks - no - _months_ (because it was started before the Sylvia chapter) planning out some parts of this one, and finally I'm able to put it out of my head and say "It's been written - now I can work on the next thing." I've got an idea I'm working on for the next chapter, so we'll see how that goes, now I'm finished with the flashback section.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: In Which Justice Is Served**

_The case was a nightmare, in Roy's opinion. The judge had agreed to bar the press from the courtroom, but every time he and Riza arrived or left, cameras were flashing and questions were being shouted at them. Their lawyer – a quick-talking man named Harvey – led them through the mob with the accuracy and purpose of a seeing-eye dog. Harvey would sit them down in the morning each time they had to be at court, telling them what today was going to be like, and afterwards he'd tell them how it went, and why this reaction wasn't a terrible thing after all, and why that one was, but he could still fix things._

_Roy was one hundred percent certain that the case would have proceeded much further in only a short amount of time if it hadn't been for the opposition's main argument._

"_How can you be sure," Emlyn's lawyer asked, "that the sex was not consensual? Mrs. Mustang has admitted that she and her husband were arguing. She herself stated that my client invited her to dinner, and that she accepted. _She_ made the decision, once in his apartment, not to call for a taxi straight away, but to stay longer. Who, but the two present, can tell you what really happened? There are no witnesses to the contrary; as far as we who weren't there know, this could merely be a case of buyer's remorse that Mrs. Mustang is trying to pass off as rape to disprove her infidelity."_

_The woman was a calculating harpy – not that Roy was biased, by any chance. Ms. Samson was tall, and used that to look down her nose at people as she spoke, giving him the impression of a school-teacher telling off her pupils for misbehaving. If her manner was cowing the jury at all, Roy was sure that Harvey's assuring banter and well-timed medical witnesses put them at rest._

_Nevertheless, Roy tried to block out the explanations of Riza's bruised inner-thighs, dislocated wrist, and the almost-perfect handprint bruising on her hip accompanied by gouges from nails. Instead he glowered at the back of the head belonging to the man who had done that to her. Thank goodness all the hospital's tests had come back negative. Riza avoided Emlyn Greed's eye the whole time, but Roy saw the man's eyes flicker in her direction more than once, in a bored sort of contemplation._

_It had been quite a while between the interview with the police and the arraignment, and even longer between the arraignment and the trial. Roy had been told that it was because Greed had been such a slippery character. He seemed always just out of reach, and even when he was arrested, he managed to stall everything a few more weeks with his doubletalk. Harvey said that it was good for Riza's case – it gave him longer to prepare. Normally the defence tried to work fast, so that any slips in the victim's story could be used against them, but Greed seemed unconcerned._

_Roy had recognised the man when he saw him. He was that one from the soccer match, when Riza had sent Edward in to get Roy. Just as when Roy had met him then, when Roy and Riza first entered the courtroom Emlyn Greed gave an interested smile. Roy had glared at the man. Riza didn't even look up._

_When Ms. Samson introduced the consensual sex idea – Harvey had actually warned them that she'd take that angle – Roy's blood boiled. He had heard of women pretending to have been molested to cover up for their own mistakes before, but Riza was not one of those women. She was strong, and responsible, and – despite his faults – loyal. She would not stoop to something as immature as blaming someone else for a slip like this. Not when it could land an innocent man in prison. Whatever else his wife was, she was not unjust._

_Roy came home from court that day, for the first time honestly not knowing whether Greed would be sent to prison or not._

* * *

_As he lay in bed that night, trying to sleep, Riza stirred beside him. He opened an eye curiously when she shimmied closer to him. For a moment, she hovered by his side, watching him in the moonlight with those sharp eyes of hers. He gave a questioning mumble to show he was awake if she needed to say anything._

_A hand landed softly on his chest, and both of his eyes had opened by the time she lunged forwards to place her lips on his. He responded bemusedly as her hand fisted in his singlet, but when she started creeping over him, he scooted back and sat up. Riza rocked back, sitting half on the bed and half on his knee, a haunted expression on her face._

"_Ri, what are you doing? . . . Are you alright?" he asked, reaching out to stroke her hair. "What's happening?" He was almost as surprised by his action as he was by the fact that she didn't move away from it._

_Instead, she took a hold of his wrist and pulled herself towards him with it. "Please, Roy?" she asked, watery eyes silently pleading with him. "I can't stand it – I really can't."_

_He frowned, not understanding what she was talking about._

"_Just . . . knowing he's the last one to have touched me. Roy, please. I don't want to let him keep that part of me." She eased forward, watching for his reaction._

_Eventually, it was him who reached up to pull her the rest of the way forwards. He understood what she was saying. It disgusted him too, knowing that man had touched his wife in a way that Roy himself hadn't dared for years. It felt strange, like re-exploring a place he used to know where he wasn't sure if he was still welcome, but if Riza said that this was going to help her, he wasn't going to tell her to back off._

* * *

_Every day that they returned to the court, wondering what proof was going to be offered next, Roy was sure that this would be the day everyone came to their senses. He was just waiting for someone to stand up and say to all of the people "Hey, everyone, that man is a rapist!" When it did happen, it wasn't quite as he expected._

_Greed was winning. Harvey didn't tell them, but from the smug look on Ms. Samson's face, and the thoughtful nods her speech and questions got from the jury, Roy could tell. Harvey seemed to be doing fine, but . . . the concrete evidence just "wasn't good enough"._

_Then, for no reason that Roy could perceive, Greed stood up and announced that he wanted to change his plea of Not Guilty._

_Harvey stopped talking mid-sentence. Riza's eyes widened and her jaw clenched. Roy _gaped_ at the man._

_Ms. Samson's head whipped around, and from the expression on her face, she was as shocked as everyone else was. "Ahh, Your Honour – could I have a moment with my client?" she finally asked in clipped tones._

_The judge paused, looking at Greed for a moment, and announced a short recess._

_Harvey spent the time telling the Mustangs that there was still a chance Ms. Samson would talk Greed out of it. They were not to get too excited about this, because in the case that she convinced him, there was still a lot of work to be done. If, however, he maintained this change of plea, there would be nothing else to worry about._

_As court came back in session Ms. Samson entered stone-faced, a perfectly amenable Greed following behind her._

_The judge addressed her, and Ms. Samson stood, one fist knuckles-down on the table, to say in a stiff voice, "My client would like to change his plea from 'Not Guilty' to 'Guilty'."_

_Roy didn't know whether to feel jubilant or cheated. He was glad that the man was going to be put away for what he'd done, but his surrender was almost a let-down when he could have been caught, and a decisive victory would have been many times sweeter._

_While Roy was sitting in ambivalence, Riza quietly thanked Harvey for all his work. Even from where he sat, Roy could hear the uncertainty in her voice._

_Outside the courthouse reporters swamped them. Roy took Riza's hand, and Harvey put one of his hands on her shoulder so that they wouldn't be separated by the crowd. They stopped this time, so that Harvey could give a brief comment on how justice had been served. Roy heard Riza's name, and his own from many voices, and questions being directed towards them. He kept quiet, and Harvey managed to expand his comment to include Riza – "My client is just happy to see this man behind bars."_

_Then they escaped the throng, leaving behind all that had happened there._

* * *

_Roy discovered the business card in the trash. He wasn't rummaging through the bin – the card was just lying there on top of everything when he went to put some of his own rubbish in there._

'_Dr. Sara Chapman', it said. 'Clinical Psychologist; 23 Dorian Street, Maryland; Ph.: 0247 601 159; Open Weekdays 9am-7pm, Saturdays 10am-3pm'._

_Roy flipped the card over in his hand to see if anything was written on the back, but the other side was blank. Turning it back to the front again, he frowned at the card for a beat before curiously wandering out to search through the house._

_After checking both the gym – although it had been in less use since the trial finished – and the living room, Roy found Riza in the lounge room, her feet curled up beneath her on the lounge, and totally absorbed with one of her latest books. One hand tugged absently at her ponytail as she read through._

_When Roy called her name to get her attention, she turned her head towards the doorway he stood in, while her eyes continued to move over the page. "Mmm?"_

"_Riza, what was this doing in the trash?"_

_She blinked and looked up at him, eyes focussing on the card he waved. A dark cloud came over Riza's face. "I don't need it, and I'm not in the habit of keeping rubbish," she said in matter-of-fact tones. She turned back to her book, sliding her feet out from underneath her._

_Rubbish, was it?_

"_Do you remember the nurse saying that you should at least go and get checked out?" Roy asked. He walked out of the doorway to hover over her._

_Riza scowled up at him. "I kept the card just in case I needed it, like you said. The whole thing is over now, and I haven't needed professional help this whole time. I still don't."_

"_Look, you might not need it now, but who knows how much time could pass before you decide you should talk to someone about this," Roy reasoned. "It'd be better to have the card of someone you can trust at hand."_

"_Fine." Riza shrugged uncomfortably. "Keep the card if you want."_

"_We'll see how this goes. Ri . . ." Roy paused, putting a hand on her arm. "I'm not trying to be argumentative. I just want to know that there'll be someone to help you out if you need it."_

_Her gaze softened and she put the hand not holding her book on top of his. "I know. I just don't like involving other people in our business. You know what they can be like, sometimes."_

"_Yeah, I do." He bent down to kiss her, and she patted him on the cheek, giving a small smile before looking back at her book._

* * *

True to his word, when Roy returned from training the next day, he brought the subject up again.

"I think that now's the time to start seeing a professional, Riza," he told her after showering.

She was sitting on the rug in the nursery, playing with a wide-eyed Bianca. The little girl was laying back against some cushions, kicking her legs softly and reaching out for the various toys her mother showed her. A pudgy hand grabbed at the soft giraffe that stopped wiggling in the air when Riza turned around.

"I told you, we've spoken about this before," she said, relinquishing the animal.

"Yes, we put it off because at the time you were doing well. Now, you're having nightmares most weeks, and you're still not comfortable waiting for more than five minutes after my games."

He was quite aware of the reasons for her new-found quirks, and although he didn't want to push her to becoming 'well', he thought that her way of trying that was altogether less beneficial in a long-term manner than his way was. A counsellor would be able to uncover what had happened and help her deal with those things properly, rather than just bury them under a happy surface-layer.

Riza didn't reply to him, so Roy joined her on the floor, tickling at Bianca's foot. The girl gave him a gummy smile before chomping down onto the poor giraffe's head.

"Look, I know you think that everything you say to this doctor will get out into the papers somehow, but we spoke to the police about it, and it was brought up in court, too, so everyone in that room heard, but the closest we've had to reporters bothering us is Addy wanting to know what really happened. The only reason a psychologist is allowed to let anyone know about what their patient has told them is if they believe their patient is about to commit a crime, and then the only people they tell that to are the police."

She still didn't speak, instead giving a soft sigh.

"Why won't you talk to someone about this?" he asked, trying to catch her eye.

"Because," she said, finally breaking her silence, "then I'll have to admit it really happened."

* * *

_Okay, now I'm assuming you're wondering why on earth Emlyn changed his plea. Well, my idea of Greed . . . He wants things, but he's not discriminating as to where he'll get them from. If he becomes curious about something, he'll pursue it until he knows everything about it he can, or (more importantly) until he gets what he wants from it. Also, I don't think Greed holds grudges. Maybe against the Homunculi for imprisoning him, but I think that's warranted. Anyway, I can see Greed becoming bored with a trial that takes too long, and wondering how the charges would affect him. I think if the charges didn't intimidate him, he'd accept them just to get past whatever's happening._

_Emlyn's view of Riza is much the same as it was before he raped her, except without the greedy drive behind it. So he thinks of her fondly, and, I suppose, he acquiesces to the charge against him to humour her._

_I have a better idea of it in my mind, but I'm finding it hard to put into words. Tell me if that doesn't answer the idea properly._

_-Dai_


	12. In Which Lions Are Not Jaguars

**Diclaimer:** I don't own FMA! Although, I do have a rather nice scarf. I call it Scarfy. Is that FMA? :3

**Notes:** Next chapter! Yaay! This one has been kicking along, bit by bit. I'm not sure what writing the next chapter is going to be like, but at least I already know what it's going to be. Huzzah for planning! Thank you for your patience, lovely readers o' mine.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: In Which Lions Are Not Jaguars**

Most days of Addy Mustang's life could be separated into one of two categories – or several of hordes of categories, if you went for the finicky approach. They could be separated into weekends and weekdays, or into healthy days and sick days, or into school days and holidays, good days and naughty days, fussy days and couldn't-care-less days, fruit days and ice-cream days, friend days and family days, or even sunny days, cloudy days, windy days, rainy days and – on the rare occasion – hail days. This time, however, Addy was choosing to categorise her day by her 'boring or exciting' method.

Today was an exciting day.

It had started out like a boring day, because Georgia wasn't there, so Addy had to sit next to Finn for English. Finn was a fun enough friend in the playground, but during class, Addy and Georgia could sign to each other without the teacher noticing. Georgia was mute, too – she had been in an accident when she was six years old – but Finn was almost totally deaf. That meant that he could hear loud noises, but not soft ones. Sometimes when he signed he would mumble, and the teacher would hear and tell them off for talking. So they didn't talk much in class, and English was boring without Georgia.

At recess, though, things picked up. Not straight away. First, she fell over and dropped her apple onto the concrete. While she escaped injury, her poor apple got bruised and she didn't want to eat it anymore. But then, after that, Owen Churchill smiled at her. Addy knew he hadn't seen her fall over, because she had been outside on her way back from the toilets then, so she smiled back and sat down feeling not as annoyed as she had been a moment ago.

After recess she had Art class. Art was a lot more fun than English, even without Georgia at school. It was Addy's best subject. She didn't mind drawing – which was good, because it was what they usually had to do in Art classes – but Addy really liked painting best.

There was one Art class a while ago, when Mr. Horder had taken them to a sculpting class in Ferndale, and everyone had made their own cups. Addy had quite liked moulding the clay, and tracing light patterns into the cup with a pencil. She used a few colours to give it some personality, but had been displeased with the result when they were handed back their cups in normal Art class a week later, and the colours had all brightened in the kiln. She had painted it with the duller colours in mind – if she wanted bright colours she would have found some that went together better.

This week, they were painting. Mr. Horder directed everyone to take out their pencils, paints and brushes, and to choose an easel. There were small canvasses at each easel. Addy had been told that in normal schools classes were a lot bigger than the ones at her school, and she couldn't help but wonder at the impracticality of having so many students when it came to Art classes. Mr. Horder had said earlier in the year, when she asked, that the reason they did painting so infrequently was because the canvasses cost too much to buy new ones for each class, every month. Addy had mentioned it at home, and Daddy came into school a little later, and since then, they'd had painting once every three or so weeks, instead of twice a term.

"Jordy," Mr. Horder said sternly, to get the mute girl's attention. He then instructed the class in sign-language that today they were trying to paint a picture of an animal that would fit in with the rainforest theme they had going. They were studying all sorts of rainforest things in HSIE – Human Studies in the Environment – and this was their way of involving it in their other subjects as well.

They were supposed to use their pencils to lightly draw the rough shape of the animal onto their canvas, and then they'd use paint to go over it and do it properly. Addy didn't like doing it this way. She preferred to just use paints, because pencils were so tiny and fidgety, and all of her pictures were wobbly. She thought it wasn't as noticeable with her paintings, but that could also be because she was more confident with them, so her hand didn't wobble nearly as much.

So, instead of following the teacher's orders, she quietly squirted a little paint out onto her makeshift palette – an ice-cream container lid – and started dabbing at it with her brush.

When Mr. Horder announced that everyone should have finished their outlines by now, and needed to start painting, Addy had already finished her squiggly snake and had started on the grass around him.

"Wow," Finn said, with the usual slur to his voice, "that looks good."

Addy stepped back and gave him a grin, since her hands were full.

A last glance at her painting told her that it had enough grass, and she went off to start cleaning out her brush. When she came back, Finn was trying to make his lion look less squashed and in pain.

Addy tried to tell him that lions didn't live in rainforests.

Finn frowned at her, and said a little too loudly, "Yes they do. Those spotted ones. I can't do spotted lions, so I just drawed it normal."

She told him to be quiet, because he sounded like her little sister, and that spotted lions were jaguars, not lions.

This made Finn turn to his painting angrily, face flushed red. He swiped a big, tawny-brown streak of paint over his lion, thrusting the brush in hard so the bristles splayed out. Without looking at Addy again, he went and dropped his brushes loudly in the sink, then stormed out of the class.

Feeling a little guilty, Addy looked blankly at the door and then at Finn's canvas. If he hadn't made it a male lion it could almost have passed for a jaguar. It was ruined now, of course, and there wasn't really anything she could do about that, so Addy went over to Mr. Horder, where he was watching over Will's work, and told him that Finn had left the room.

Mr. Horder looked around to verify what she had just said, and then told Addy he'd be right back, before striding out the door.

Two minutes later, he returned with Finn walking sullenly in front of him. "Time to pack up," Mr. Horder announced, and the handful of mute students looked up. "Let the person beside you know, and make sure you wash your brushes properly."

While everyone started clearing away their things, Addy put her brushes back into her pencil case. Mr. Horder was talking with Finn in the corner, so Addy went and found where Finn had dropped his brushes and started washing them up for him.

When Mr. Horder had finished with him, Finn shuffled over to Addy and took his brushes from her with one hand, thanking her with the other. Addy bit her lip and let him know it was a good lion, just that they didn't live in the rainforest. There was a reluctant shrug, and Finn turned away to take care of his own things.

So in a way, Art hadn't been as fun as usual, but it was definitely not boring.

After Art was Maths. For Maths Addy sat with Hannah and Giselle. Hannah and Giselle were more of classroom friends than playground friends, but on days like this when Georgia was away, Addy found herself gravitating towards them. Especially since Finn still seemed to be in a taking.

When it was time for lunch, Addy munched away on her tomato sandwich (the bread and tomato had been packed separately in her lunchbox, so that the sandwich wasn't soggy by the time she ate it) and found herself enthralled by the way the other girls managed to hold their sandwiches with one hand and talk with the other. Whenever she tried to do that, slices of her tomato fell out from between the bread and dropped onto the floor. She tried twice, but gave up when she found that half of her sandwich didn't have any fillings anymore.

On her way out of the classroom, when the students had been informed that they were allowed to go out and play, Addy found Will tapping on her shoulder. He asked her if she wanted to come and play soccer with the boys. There was a moment in which she was about to say no, but then she saw that behind Will, Owen was getting a soccer ball out of his bag.

Addy gave a quick 'okay' and went to ask Hannah and Giselle if they wanted to join in. She found the girls outside, putting on their hats.

While Giselle seemed eager enough to play, Hannah shook her head quickly. Then, when Giselle tried to say maybe she wouldn't, after all, Hannah acquiesced and said that as long as she didn't have to do a lot of running around, she would join them.

By the end of lunch Addy was puffed, red-cheeked, and grinning widely.

Once, she had put out her hand to stop the ball as it flew past, and the boys had made a fuss about that, but it was just because she forgot the rules. She _knew_ she wasn't supposed to touch it with her arms, because Mummy had told her that when they watched one of Daddy's games – she had just forgotten that little detail when she was playing.

In the middle of lunch time, Addy had got the ball and managed to take it almost all the way up to the other end of the field before one of the boys stole it off her. She was still quite proud of the distance she had managed to get past all of the other boys. She had even managed to run past Owen! And at the end of the game he told her that she played good, for a girl, but that was to be expected because of her dad.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Finn wasn't very talkative, but he didn't completely ignore her, and Giselle disclosed that she actually quite liked David – that made Addy wrinkle up her nose, because David could be horrid when he wished to be – but Giselle wasn't allowed to date yet, so she wasn't going to ask him out. When the school day was over and Addy went to find her grandparents, Owen actually said goodbye to her. Sadly, that part of the day went quickest of all.

At her grandparents' house, Grandma made Addy wash her hands before she was allowed to have afternoon tea. And then when Grandpa asked her how her day was, Grandma told Addy not to talk with food in her hands. She couldn't really help it – Xingian sweets were sticky, and even if you opened your hand and held it upside down, they'd stick to your fingers until you sucked them off.

Grandma and Grandpa knew a little bit of sign-language. Not as much as Mummy and Daddy, but they knew enough that Addy could tell them some things about her morning, and for any words they were unfamiliar with, she could spell them out or use her notepad. Grandpa liked her to use her notepad, because his eyes weren't as good as they used to be, and he couldn't keep up with the way her hands moved sometimes. She had to go really slow or write it down, so it was just easier to write, really.

At four o'clock Mummy arrived with Bianca. Normally, Daddy picked Addy up on his way back from training, but sometimes Mummy would come around, and she always brought the baby. Grandma and Grandpa fussed over Bianca for a little while, saying things about how much she was growing.

Addy used the time to go and give her mother a hug, which Mummy returned until she realised Addy still had sticky hands.

"Careful – don't touch anything, or it could get sticky too."

Addy assured her mother that she had been careful not to – she hugged Mummy with her arms, not with her fingers.

Mummy smiled, and stroked Addy's hair. "Good girl. If you're finished eating, wash your hands. You have lovely smooth hands when they're not sticky."

With a sigh, Addy went off to wash her hands. It seemed that all adults required that the first thing for a child to do in their presence was to wash their hands.

Later that afternoon, at home, when Daddy got back from training, Addy approached him curiously. Not about the washing-of-the-hands ritual adults required, but rather about much more important matters.

She asked him if he could teach her how to play soccer properly.

"Since when have you been interested in soccer?" he asked good-naturedly.

She replied with a simple 'since forever', after all, he'd _always_ played soccer, and she did quite like her father. That counted.

They put together a set of goals in the backyard – a Frisbee and Addy's jacket on one side, and Daddy's drink bottle and a pool toy on the other, three big steps apart from each other on opposite ends of the lawn – and Daddy found a ball to play with, dropping it at his feet.

"Okay, these are the boundaries," Daddy told her, pointing out the pool gate, and a little ditch towards the back of the yard. "If the ball goes past those points, the person who _didn't_ kick it out gets to take it from there. You're not allowed to touch the ball with your hands. Those are the only rules you need for two-player soccer. Ready?"

She was.

Fifteen minutes later she was sitting on the grass, breathing heavily and clutching at the stitch in her side. Addy had told him not to go easy on her when she scored for the third time, and now she regretted that choice of words. She could have just told him to make it a _little_ bit harder.

Daddy laughed behind her, and a moment later he came into her line of vision, kicking the soccer ball so that it rolled lazily to her side. Addy grabbed it and put it on her lap.

He held out a hand. "Come on – up you get!"

Allowing herself to be heaved to her feet, Addy dropped the ball and brushed the grass off her back before nudging her father to get his attention. Then she asked him a very important question. How old did she have to be before she could have a boyfriend?

For a moment Addy kept walking when Daddy had stopped, but she halted and turned to face him. The shocked expression he wore didn't seem to bode well for her aspirations.

"Tha- that shouldn't be much of an issue now, right?" he asked, brows drawing together and eyes widening slightly. His hands twitched up from his sides, and he added – in sign-language – the lingering question that unless there was some boy she liked . . ?

Addy liked it when her parents spoke to her in sign-language. They never used sign-language for their arguments, so it was like a safe little fortress for her. Also, she knew they were definitely talking to her, this way. It was more personal, and intimate.

She chewed her lip, not knowing how much to reveal to her father, but eventually admitted that she didn't know if 'he' liked her, too.

Looking up in time to see her father's eyes bulge, Addy wondered if she should have asked Mummy instead. Mummy could be strict sometimes, but she was good at knowing what it was like to be a girl. Unlike Daddy. He was barely better than 'hopeless', and Mummy said that was because he had so many girlfriends before her. That just made Daddy say, "But I didn't marry any of them, did I?" and Mummy rolled her eyes at that, even though she was smiling.

Finally, Daddy's hands moved. He asked what the boy was like.

Addy grinned up at him. Yes, today was an exciting day.

* * *

_Note: When Roy went in to Addy's school after Addy mentioned the short supply of canvasses, no, he didn't give them a stern talking-to. He was donating some money to the school to put towards art supplies. Addy doesn't know that because he didn't really mention it to her. He doesn't feel the need to advertise what he does with his money._

_Ooh, and I almost forgot! I've drawn a picture of the SSSS!Mustang family all together. You can find it at this address, minus the spaces, but with all punctuation:_

http: / /dailenna. deviantart. com/art/SSSS-Roy-Riza-Addy-Bianca-83847139


End file.
